I'd Follow You Down
by NCISBALTOFAN
Summary: (Season 10 AU Plotline). Dean's been cured, but at a dastardly cost. Metatron's been taken to Heaven's jail, but it's not certain how long the angels will be able to keep him there and one choice could leave Sam alone forever. New paths will be forged, new allies will be made, and new secrets will come to light. The only question is how and when will this all end for everyone?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, this story I wanted to get in before the Season 10 premiere in October and honestly I think I've got plenty of time, but hey there's no time like the present huh? It features a few OC's, but only one you've met before if you've read my other stories: Titan. But if you haven't met Titan here's a little background information: Titan is an Angelhound (the angelic equivalent of Hellhounds) and in my stories each angel has an Angelhound they can call upon to assist them in Heavenly feats such as war, etc. Titan used to be Balthazar's Angelhound, but Balthazar gave him to Dean so now he's Dean's. Also I have a headcannon that there's an Angel Council who watches over Heaven and tries all crimes of the Angelic nature. In my other story Donathan (leader of the Council) died, but for certain purposes in this story he's alive. Now that you have that background info time for a story!**

**Pairings: Destiel (Pre-Destiel to begin with)**

**Enjoy!**

One

Dean had become a Knight of Hell and everything had subsequently gone to it. Castiel and Sam still remembered finding him dead like that on the bed after Sam had tried to summon Crowley to straighten out the mess. Castiel had been busy dealing with Metatron beforehand and had made it down to earth only to find his best friend dead and his best friend's brother is disarray. Their world had been turned upside down once again.

When Dean had awoken with his new form of life he was colder. Castiel, who had once stared upon the face of a human soul, stared into the dark black eyes of a dead man. A dead man with a demonic ram for a face now or at least that was how Dean Winchester appeared to Castiel. His new true form was almost enough to make Castiel cry.

Dean spent his nights out killing and running amuck with Crowley. Sam spent his looking for a cure and Castiel spent his preparing for the trial of Metatron. Surely the Angel Council he hoped would find Metatron guilty. If he owed Donathan nothing else, he'd certainly be willing to owe him anything for this. Months went by and finally after many weeks on end of studying in Heaven's library, Castiel found something.

He'd rushed to earth and helped Sam tie Dean down to a bed before hastily heading outside. He'd told Sam he had a way to cure Dean, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Sam the details. He couldn't have Sam know anything, so Castiel left without a word and did not return until the sun started setting in the sky. The clouds hung low and the sky was a beautiful display of red, gold, and yellow and Dean slept in his room, unaware of the beauty of the evening and what Castiel had done.

Titan, Dean's Angelhound given to him by Balthazar about a year or two before this incident, strode over to Castiel and stuck his head up under Castiel's hand. Castiel looked down fondly at the hound and smiled.

"_Dean is asleep," _Titan said through Castiel's mind as he sat next to the angel and panted. "_You do realize the potential consequences of what you have done though, do you not Castiel?"_

"I know what I'm doing Titan," Castiel then stopped petting the hound and looked up towards the sky. "I hope."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sam sat in the chair where his brother lay. Here the younger Winchester had been busting his ass trying to find a way to cure Dean and Castiel fixes it just like that. He'd asked demons.

_"Is there a way to cure this?" Sam asked the demon he'd summoned at the crossroads near the bunker. The air was warm and a breeze was blowing. Sam's skin was ashen and he was tired, it was easily seen in his eyes. _

_ "Even if I knew that there was a cure," the demon girl said sassily. "Why would I tell you that information?"_

_ "Because Miss Priss," Sam came closer into the devil's trap, sizing up the demon and staring down at her with a gruesome look on his face. "Right now my brother and your King are busy slaughtering innocent people and maybe even some of your people and it seems to be my only option to call upon one of you underworld whores to help me."_

_ "Sammy," the demon smirked and leaned close to him. "You've got a mouth on you. There's no cure, trust me."_

_ Sam paused a moment, looking into her eyes and then suddenly grabbed her around her throat. She started choking. _

_ "Lies," Sam said, starting to chant. "Spiritus immundus…"_

_ "Alright," she yelled and Sam loosened his grip, she coughed as she regained air. "There's a cure! But I don't know it I swear! P-Please I swear I don't know it!"_

_ Sam dropped her to the ground and started to walk away._

_ "You're just gonna leave me here?!" she asked him._

_ "I'm sure your King will rescue you." Sam replied before he got into the Impala and drove off into the night towards the bunker._

The demon had spoken of a cure. Sam had contemplated asking Crowley if it was true or not, but since Crowley was MIA most of the time being Dean's "killing coach" he'd decided against it. Now Dean lay, asleep, the darkness inside was festering Sam could tell. He was almost afraid for what Castiel had done, but at the same time Sam was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures most of the time.

Now, all Sam could do was waiting, waiting until his brother woke up.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The tiny starlings pecked at things not seen to the human eye that they found on the ground in front of the bunker. Castiel watched them with some content. It had been Gabriel's job to create the birds. He'd based them off angels in Heaven. A tribute as he had called it. His mark on Heaven before he'd left. Castiel didn't know why he felt jealous of the birds, he was their equal. He was their design, their inspiration, but he lacked one thing they did have: freedom.

Castiel heard the familiar crunch of boots on gravel and the birds seemed to sense it too. They flew away and Castiel sighed. He kept his eyes fixed on them as they beat their wings through the clouds.

"_Lucky bastards." _He thought.

"Cas," Sam's voice came out low and quiet. "I don't know what you did, but Dean's awake."

Castiel turned his head to face the younger Winchester and the two of them made their way inside to Dean's bedroom. Sam ran in first when he saw Dean trying very hard to get up. His eyes were normal, no signs of evil in them. It was almost as if there never had been. They were their normal beautiful green.

"Dean please don't try to sit up too fast," Sam knelt down in front of his brother and placed a supporting hand on his back. "Are you dizzy? Do you need anything?"

"Sammy," Dean's voice came out gravelly, he paused but then he laughed a little. "We gotta work on your bedside manner."

"Shut up." Sam said and wrapped Dean in a giant hug, which at first Dean didn't understand, but then returned. Castiel watched from the doorway with a solemn look on his face. He knew Sam felt relief now and surely Dean did as well, but he also knew in their line of work it wouldn't last long. Not what with he'd done.

"Dean," he said and Dean turned his head to face Castiel, a shocked look on his face.

"Yeah Cas?" Dean asked. He didn't know what else to say to the angel. What else could he say after the past few weeks?

"When you are feeling up to it," Castiel explained. "Come to the kitchen. We have much to discuss."

Castiel left the doorway.

**Reviews are always appreciated!**

**So what's to come? **

**Dean's cured, but what did Castiel do to achieve that?**

**And what of Metatron? Will he stand trial? What will the verdict be?**

**More to come soon guys.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Dean sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand, sipping it gingerly as if it were his last. Sam stood leaning against the kitchen countertop and Castiel stood with his hands in his pockets and looking down, contemplating his words. The air was heavy with unsaid words from all three of Team Free Will as Dean had called them so long ago.

"Gadreel is dead," Castiel decided it was best to start with that; there were details he had to leave out anyway. "He sacrificed himself for me in Heaven's jail. Metatron is there now, awaiting trial."

"So where does that leave us Cas?" Dean asked, looking up to meet the angel's eyes. Castiel looked tired, so tired.

"We're in wait," Castiel replied. "And you're under strict watch from Sam until we're sure you're cured."

"How long will that take?" Sam asked this time, he knew Castiel had done something, but at the same time he was afraid to know what.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted, it was true he didn't know. "But he doesn't leave the house until we know."

Castiel started to walk towards the entrance to the kitchen. His coat swinging from side to side and his hands in its pockets, Dean hadn't ever seen him walk like that. It seemed more human. Dean didn't know why, but for some reason that worried him. He felt it deep in his gut that something was off with the angel.

"I have much to attend to in Heaven," Castiel said before turning to the brothers. "I'll be back soon."

Castiel disappeared in a flash of feathers and wings, leaving Dean and Sam alone together in the kitchen. Sam cleared his throat and Dean started into his coffee as if it were growing a human head. The swirls of cream and sugar were turning in a clockwise motion.

"You lied to me." Dean said.

"Excuse me?" replied Sam.

"You said if I was ever dying you'd never try to save me," Dean said, turning to face his brother. "You lied. What made you change your mind Sammy?"

Sam hesitated. Could Dean handle the real reason? Sam wondered.

"I don't have to answer that Dean," Sam decided to play it safe. "You're my brother. I couldn't just let you die."

"Now you're just spurting out me," Dean said, accusatory-like and stood to face Sam. "What's the real reason Sam?"

Sam stared at him, and then answered.

"You need to get some sleep Dean," Sam said, pushing past his brother to the kitchen door. "We'll talk later."

Dean stood in the kitchen watching the spot where Sam had stood in the doorway. Something was up with both Sam and Castiel. Dean decided that for now it was best to leave it alone, but when the time came he'd certainly figure it out. Dean left the kitchen, his cup of coffee was cooling off and the steam had stopped rising.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Heaven's jail was made of steel and concrete now. Ever since Gadreel's suicide in the cell next to Castiel it had been rebuilt to withstand such an event happening ever again. The door to Gadreel's cell was wide open since it contained no prisoner. Castiel went inside the cell and touched his fingers to the rough texture of the wall. There were singe marks, where bits of Gadreel's grace had burned the stone. Castiel closed his eyes and sighed.

"Really quite a shame isn't it," Metatron said from the cell across from Gadreel's. Castiel turned his head and opened his eyes, his fingers still on the wall where the marks were. "I suppose he wasn't as weak as he appeared to be."

Castiel felt a lump rising in his throat and his fingers fell from the wall as he turned to walk towards Metatron's cell. The tips of his fingers were tingling still from rubbing against the rough stone wall. He reached the bars to Metatron's cell and stood before it, his hands tried not to shake. Metatron sat on the bench in the cell, his legs kicked up on it and his back against the wall. He smirked at Castiel.

"Gadreel was not weak," Castiel said, hoping for his voice not to falter. "He was a hero."

"You wouldn't have said that when he let that snake it now would you," Metatron replied. "You never did choose your idols well did you Castiel?"

"I don't see how that's relevant." Castiel said, his voice turning cold.

Metatron stood and walked over the edge of his cell. He was shorter than Castiel, but there was this aura about him that made him intimidating, especially after all that had happened.

"Because Castiel," Metatron said. "The little A-Teams you pick? They never work out. Gadreel, he was the biggest betrayer of Heaven besides Ecanus and Lucifer. Gabriel, your own brother, betrayed his family his Father and chose a new one, even those Winchester boys have screwed things up more times than you can imagine and you still choose to go back to them. You choose to go back to him."

Castiel's fists clenched and he gave Metatron a scowl.

"Why is that Castiel," Metatron asked. "I mean I know why you still choose to go back to that human every time, but why is it you choose to put your faith in those you can't believe in?"

Castiel grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him closer to the bars in death grip. His stare could kill. Metatron struggled a bit and looked into Castiel's eyes.

"So help me Metatron," Castiel said in a low hiss. "I have had thought after thought, I have been dreaming of just tearing you apart. But that's for the Council to decide. Father hope they won't be kind."

"Down boy," Metatron said in a bored tone. "Sorry I insulted your boyfriend and his brother, as well as your brothers. But you have to admit. When it comes to picking sides, you've never picked the winning one."

"I have now Metatron," Castiel said, letting go of him. "And it's certainly not yours."

Castiel started to walk away.

"Be warned Castiel," Metatron smirked and yelled out of his cell. "I have many plans. These prison doors can't hold someone like me forever, Kyrie Eleison on your soul Castiel."

Castiel ignored him. He nodded to the guards at the doors of the prison before flying off and the doors shut behind him.

**Read and Reviews are definitely appreciated!**

**So why didn't Sam let Dean die?**

**And what's wrong with Cas?**

**And what did Metatron mean by what he said?**

**More to come soon guys!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean grunted as he pushed himself out from underneath the Impala and into the bright sunlight he'd forgotten about since he'd gone under the car to repair it. Dean wiped the sweat and grime from his forehead and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, trying to purge the lingering slight headache from them, as fast images of what had happened flashed through Dean's mind.

_He remembered the blood and gore. He remembered the cries of anguish from every single victim. He remembered Crowley's words of encouragement every time Dean had gone in for the kill. Every single time he went in for the kill._

_ "Go on Dean," he'd say. "They don't matter."_

But they did matter, that was the hard part. They had mattered before Dean had taken every inch of them and turned it inside out. Before Dean had slaughtered the masses and heard their innocent cries for help even now in his dreams and before everything had gone to Hell once again, literally. The radio next to Dean blasted "Back in Black" and Dean slammed its off button. He turned towards the trunk of his beloved car and jumped, holding his heart. There, Titan sat, staring at the hunter.

"Damn it Titan," Dean cursed and grabbed a rag to wipe off his shirt and hands with. "Give a guy a warning next time. You're turning into Cas."

"_My apologies Dean," _the hound said through Dean's mind. Dean forgot he could do that sometimes. "_Would you prefer my human form next time? Would that be less surprising?"_

_ "_Whatever form you want Titan," Dean also forgot sometimes that all Angelhounds had a human form as well. Titan's ironically looked almost nothing like his hound form. His human form was a young man, skinny but muscular. His human form had the same eyes, crystal blue, but blonde hair and a fouler mouth than Dean sometimes. Dean liked to think that was his only contribution to the hound's time on Earth was him picking up Dean's habit of cussing. "Speaking of Cas, where did he head off to? I figured he wanted to follow up on our talk from last night."

"_Castiel is attending to matters in Heaven," _Titan stretched and yawned, whining a little. "_It may take awhile. I cannot speak for him Dean."_

"You're a real barrel of sarcasm you know that," Dean chuckled and went under the hood of the Impala, checking it's engine and making sure it was in full working order. "Hard to believe I haven't driven Baby since…well since that night."

_"You are referring to the night you were killed by Metatron," _Titan almost slinked off the hood and down to the ground next to Dean, his eyes shone in the sunlight. "_Then became your worst nightmare, are you not?"_

"We need to work on your bluntness," Dean said, avoiding that subject. "I tend to think you picked up more than my foul mouth since you became mine."

_"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." _Titan replied arrogantly as his dog tags jingled on his neck. A red collar donned his neck; the one Balthazar had placed on him. The tags were in the shape of angel's wings and were real silver. Balthazar's name on them had been magically changed to Dean's when the hound had been given over to him. Dean grabbed the tags between his fingers and looked at them a moment before letting go.

"I feel like I've missed part of my life." Dean admitted with a sigh.

"_That's what rebuilding is for." _Dean could've sworn Titan almost smiled when he looked at him. The hound's eyes shone once and he ran off towards the bunker. The gravel kicking up behind his paws as he went and for one second Dean saw himself running back towards the bunker, covered in blood and with that crazed look in his eyes that only came after a kill, but as soon as the image presented itself in his mind it ran off just as Titan had.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Oh guard," Metatron sang out, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet. "Guard!"

"What is it Metatron?" Belphagor, one of the angels guarding the jail on the night shift, said. He was a gruff angel. Not really one to socialize too much and one who had seen many a battle. He had the scars to prove it. All in all, a perfect candidate for the guard job.

"You see guard," Metatron explained. "I'm awfully bored here in this cell and I could use something to entertain myself. So that I don't annoy the likes of you as well."

Belphagor sighed. He realized anything he gave Metatron could easily lead to him getting himself out somehow, but what were the chances of that? The cells had been re-done since his arrival and since Gadreel had decided to be a martyr. What could Metatron do?

"Fine," Belphagor said. "What do you require to assist you in curing this so called boredom of yours?"

"Oh nothing," Metatron said with a smile. "Just a piece of paper and a pencil."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Castiel trudged along the path in Heaven he enjoyed most. It was the Heaven of an Autistic man who drowned in his bathtub and loved flying kites. The grass was a luscious green and the sky a perfect blue with fluffy white clouds. It was here that Castiel had also stood up to Raphael and his army and bled out on the green grass. It was here the singe marks of angels' wings still remained on the grass from said fight. The man didn't seem to ever notice though. He just continued to fly his kites. Castiel had always felt bad about what he considered to be "ruining" this man's Heaven. That was in the past though, along with everything else now. Castiel's constant mess ups, Dean becoming a Hell Knight, everything seemed right now for the most part. Although now, Castiel had this constant fear over his head ever since he'd done what he'd done. He knew he shouldn't have done it, but it was the only way at the time to save Dean and God knows he wouldn't just let Dean go on as what he'd become. The only choice Castiel had now was to tell him or not.

"A dilemma most interesting I'd say," the voice of the angel Ecanus echoed behind Castiel. "That took guts I'll give you that."

"Father forbid anyone else find out what I've done." Castiel rolled his eyes; he owed his sudden fluency in sarcasm to Dean.

"We all make mistakes Castiel," Ecanus landed next to him and admired the kite as well. "I would know most of all how that feels. I can't judge you."

Castiel sighed. Ecanus had once been a Scribe of Heaven like Metatron, but he had traveled to earth to assist in the Scribe Ezra in one of the many tribes somewhere in the world. The location escaped Castiel's memory. Ecanus had been captured whilst on earth by demons and they'd tortured him for information, using the same method Crowley had used on Samandrial when Castiel had rescued him. Ecanus had given away vital information on accident to the enemy and had been shunned by Heaven ever since. He'd taken up a new identity, using his Scribe friend's name in memoriam of him and gaining a new, younger, vessel by the name of Trey Walters. Ecanus had become known throughout Heaven as "Ezra", but in Castiel's company and those who knew, he was still referred to as Ecanus and if anyone knew anything about risky decisions and screwing up unintentionally, it was Ecanus.

"I thank you for your vote of confidence Ecanus," Castiel said, facing the autistic man once again. "But I'm afraid this time I don't think Father will be on my side."

"What could be worse than giving secrets to the enemy," Ecanus chuckled a little, but he sighed afterwards. "Although I do suppose what you have done goes a few notches higher on the totem pole than what I have done."

Castiel stared at the red and white checkers on the kite. Red, the color of blood and war and Hell, white the pure color of angels and all that was good. He fought for white, but most of the time he felt like he was in the red. He also always felt like the only one in the red.

"Father speed my friend," Ecanus placed his hand on Castiel's shoulder. The younger looking angel's brown eyes almost sparkled, almost, and his short brown hair blew a little with the slight wind. He had freckles like Dean. Somehow, Castiel didn't know how, but somehow that felt Castiel feel a bit better. "That's all I can say."

"I know." Castiel hated saying that, for he didn't know. He didn't know the outcome of this. There was a part of him that didn't want to. In that moment though, it was all he could think of to say.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sam sat at one of the many desks in the bunker. His mind had wandered along with the hours he'd gone without sleep. The days he'd gone without sleep, up thinking about how to save his brother. They were adding up and Sam was in a haze.

"_Admit it Sam," _the voice of the deceased Kevin Tran rang through Sam's head and Sam could've sworn that Kevin was standing before him now. A disappointed look on his face. "_You couldn't stand the thought of leaving him behind either."_

"Shut up Kevin." Sam had never said those words to the Prophet in real life, but now Sam was sleep deprived and quite frankly, annoyed with his own head.

"_You just don't want to admit I'm right," _the hallucination of Kevin said. "_Do you Sam? I'm right, admit it."_

"I said shut up Kevin!" Sam said, a bit louder than before.

"_Because without Dean," _he stepped closer, leaning his hands on the table until his knuckles went white. "_You'd be alone, a sniveling mess, a miserable bastard. Is that what you want Sam? To be a miserable bastard all alone in this big place? No! That's why you're seeing me, that's why you've gone days without sleep. Because admit it, you're just as afraid of being alone as Dean is!"_

"Go away!" Sam exclaimed.

"_Because if you were alone," _Sam looked up to see Kevin now, the hallucination of him had its eyes burnt out like he had when he died. "_You'd end up dead like me!"_

Sam gasped and immediately pulled himself out of his trance. The hallucination of the dead Prophet was gone and Sam was once again alone. He wiped at his mouth, some drool had appeared. He also rubbed at his eyes and temples. He jumped when he heard a rap on the doorframe.

"I'm going to bed," Dean said. "You should too Sammy. You look dead."

If only he knew.

"Oh," Sam stammered a bit. "Yeah, sure Dean."

"Goodnight Mr. Comatose." Dean said as he walked off towards his room.

"I thought that was Cas' title." Sam forced a chuckle and stood from the desk. He looked at the spot where "Kevin" had placed his ghostly pale hands and a shiver ran up Sam's spine when he left the room and turned off the lights. He really did need more sleep.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Night fell in Heaven as well and the stars twinkled. Belphagor stood with Cathar at the head of the jail, guarding. The angel's patience had grown thin. The prisoner's trial had been postponed once again due to a disagreement among the Council and Belphagor was forced once again to waste his evening guarding the Scribe of Heaven. No matter, he'd given the Scribe a pen and paper, enough to occupy him the whole evening it seemed too because he hadn't heard a peep out of him since then.

"Did you hear that?" Cathar asked when Belphagor heard something drop in one of the back cells.

"Yes," Belphagor said. "I'll go, stay here."

Belphagor trudged back to Metatron's cell and saw the Scribe casually sitting on his bed and smirking. The spare pencil he'd given him had fallen to the ground and rolled away from him.

"What brings you to my humble abode?" Metatron asked.

"Very funny," Belphagor replied. "I wanted to make sure you weren't doing anything stupid like trying to escape."

"Oh no my friend," Metatron came close to the cell door and smirked again. "Not yet at least."

"What—" Belphagor exclaimed, but before he could finish his sentence he felt a sharp pain in his chest. An angel blade protruded from his chest and fresh blood spilled down his hands.

"See it's all written out," Metatron showed Belphagor what he'd been writing and the angel gasped. "Right here. Tsk, Tsk, and Belphagor you really should be more careful what you give a Scribe who's a prisoner."

Belphagor felt his breath being taken away before he could even call out to warn the other guard who was unaware of what had just occurred behind the double doors of Heaven's jail. Metatron watched as Belphagor sank to the ground, angel blade extracted Metatron whispered a few words, and Belphagor died quietly, no flash of light or anything. Just the way Metatron wanted it. Metatron looked down at what he'd been writing:

_And the fearless guard fell. Blood oozing from his chest and life gone from his vessel. The equally, but slightly more fearless hero, Metatron, escaped quietly through the bars and assumed the position of Belphagor. _

Metatron did just that. Morphing into that of Belphagor and making sure the body was disposed of somewhere it wouldn't be found for awhile. Metatron, now disguised, walked out of the double doors and Cathar looked over.

"We're switching shifts," Metatron said to Cathar and started walking off, hoping for a swift and once again quiet escape. "You may go."

Cathar nodded once and started to walk off, but not before he noticed "Belphagor's" hand dripping with fresh blood. He stopped.

"What the—" he said.

Metatron knocked him out as well and continued his escape, but the alarms blared and his walk turned into a fast run. He left Cathar lying on the ground, out cold and ran off into the outskirts of the Seventh Realm of Heaven, the top layer. All of Heaven's angels were in a frenzy looking for the escapee. Angels flew everywhere, searching, but to no avail. Metatron watched from the shadows and slowly made a break for it. Diving down from Heaven to earth in one swift move. Once safely on earth and in the dark once again he looked up at the sky above and smirked before writing one last sentence down:

_The hero has returned and he is determined to raise Hell._

**Read and Reviews are very much appreciated if you can!**

**So Metatron has escaped! Oh No! **

**And what did Castiel do?**

**Will Dean ever pick up the pieces?**

**And will Sam come to terms with everything as well?**

**More to come soon!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A flash of white, splattered blood and screams, Dean awoke from that. His dreams had begun to haunt him terribly and he wished, God he wished so hard, that there was a way to make them stop. It was as if he was sleeping with ghosts, ghosts that wouldn't shut up. They were ghosts that would ravage him forever if he did any less than tear his own head off. He took a deep breath and looked around, suddenly aware of his surroundings. He was in the bunker once again. He had been ever since yesterday when he'd been working on the Impala. He'd managed to get absolutely no sleep that night, but being a hunter he knew that was an almost daily occurrence. He and Sam had sometimes gone days without sleep in between cases or personal catastrophes. Speaking of Sam, he'd mentioned something to Dean about a case the evening before. He didn't want to flounder and Dean didn't want to either. They both knew what happened to hunters who floundered.

The sun was high in the sky signaling that it was afternoon and Dean had slept way longer then he'd planned. He ran his fingers through his sweaty hair and licked his lips. They were so dry. His mouth felt dry, like he'd slept for centuries. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and sighed deeply. Titan slept in the sunniest corner of the room. It was when the hound was asleep that Dean saw the softer side of him, otherwise Titan was constantly alert. Dean ran a few fingers across his lips, they were cracked too. He grunted as he lifted himself up from his bed, his prison, it seemed to be an appropriate name for it now. Dean padded to the bathroom barefoot and turned on the light. The cool tile felt good on his feet. The fluorescent bulb sparked to life and lit up the giant bathroom, far too big for just one man, but Dean wasn't even considering sharing with anyone.

Dean turned on the faucet to the sink and cold water poured out of it. He cupped his hands to catch the cool liquid and poured it on his face. He sputtered and spit out the water that had gotten into his mouth before looking up at the mirror at his reflection. He leaned a hand on the glass and touched his stubble with the other. He would be the first to admit he looked rough. His facial hair was borderline unruly, borderline. It was still publicly acceptable for now. His hair was caked with sweat and grease, but that never bothered him. He had dark circles under his eyes, as per usual. He leaned in closer to the reflective surface and looked into those deep green eyes of his. There were black lines, black veins, not red. They were fading in color, but still they were black. Dean touched a small nick on his chin. It had scabbed over and scarred already, but when he touched it he remembered:

_Dean and Crowley stood in the shadows. It was half past midnight in the rough part of town. Surely if they were anybody else they'd have been mugged or attacked already, but no one had dared thus far. In fact the street itself had been fairly quiet for the entire duration of their time there. Crowley's eyes were trained on a nearby bar. _

_ "Beauty ain't she," Crowley was referring to the blonde woman sitting near the window. She couldn't have been more than twenty five and she was laughing with a very nice looking gentleman. She was wearing blue jeans that fit her perfectly and a black tank top. The street lights blocked most of Dean's view, but he nodded and agreed with Crowley. "You know what to do. Let's see what you can do with that ass, Squirrel."_

_ Dean's eyes went from green to black in two point five seconds and he gripped the First blade within his jacket pocket. He felt the power from it rise to his fingertips and he shivered a little at the feeling. He waited a moment until he saw the woman exit the bar, bidding goodnight to the man with her and walking off alone. Her perfect blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders. _

_ "Scuse me miss," the woman jumped when she turned around and met Dean's normal green eyes. "But it's awfully late for a woman like you to be walking home alone isn't it?"_

_ "Oh," she said. "Believe me sir I make this trek all the time, but thank you for your concern."_

_ "C'mon," Dean walked closer to her, shrugging one hand out of his jacket. "Please. It wouldn't feel right on my conscience if I let you walk home alone at this time of night. Please, let me walk you home?"_

_ "I mean," she smiled a little. "If you feel so inclined to then I guess you may."_

_ "Great," Dean chuckled. "Lead the way then."_

_ The woman led Dean down the sidewalk a ways and he smirked when he looked back at Crowley then kept his eyes fixed on the back of her head. They walked for awhile until Dean started talking again, but only after he pushed her against the wall._

_ "Excuse me," she asked. "But what are you doing?"_

_ "You're very pretty," Dean smirked as his hands traveled up her sides and one rested on her hip. He leaned in close to her neck. His nose brushing against the back of her ear. He took in the smell of her hair, her shampoo smelled expensive. "So very pretty…"_

_ "Get off of me you creep!" she yelled and pushed Dean off. His grip was strong though and he pushed her right back into the hard brick wall behind them. His hand made its way into her pocket and he pulled out her ID. He kept one strong hand on her mouth so she couldn't speak. Her screams came out muffled and her eyes were wide._

_ "Lisa Lowery," he recited as he looked at her driver's license. "Age twenty six, I was one year off."_

_ "Y-Yeah," her breaths were shaky when he took his hand off her mouth. "What's it to yah, yah freak?"_

_ "Oh I just wanna know who'll be screaming," Dean pulled out the blade. "When I do this."_

_ Lisa's eyes were bloodshot wide and she tried to scream, but the sound wouldn't come. She tried to fight Dean off; she punched at him on the ground causing the first blade to nick his chin. He grumbled and cursed when she did that. Finally a scream pierced through the night air, followed by two more, then three._

_ "Shut up," Dean grabbed her collar and she shook as she stared into his now black eyes. "You stupid bitch."_

_ Dean sunk the First Blade into her chest and she barely had time to make another sound before a choking sound came out of her and she slumped over. Her eyes rolled back in her head and blood dripped from her chest. Her heart ceased to beat and her lungs to breathe. She was limp and dead. Dean felt her warm blood trickle over him and the blade as he removed it from her chest cavity with sickenly wet sounds following. _

_ "Nasty one that was," Crowley's voice echoed behind Dean he spun around. "Put up a hell of a fight. If it were me, I'd have put her down already."_

_ "Shut your mouth," Dean snapped. "And help me hide the damn body."_

Dean shook. He actually trembled. He looked at himself in the mirror and a sick feeling settled in his gut. He never called women "stupid bitches". He never killed humans. He never…went dark side. He felt sick. He felt confused. He felt consumed by sudden anguish. He blinked and looked back down; he'd left the faucet running.

He jumped. He saw blood, gallons of human blood coming out of the running faucet. He swallowed and jumped back away from the sink. He looked at his hands; they were covered too, stained with it. He heard her screams again, flashes of white, flashes of red, flashes of black. Strong flashes of black. He heard his heart pounding like when he'd had ghost sickness and Lilith had tortured him.

Ba boom

Ba boom

BA BOOM

**BA BOOM**

It grew louder and louder until Dean covered his ears and he felt it. He felt his heart in his ears. He felt her screams, her pain, and her blood. He felt everything. He felt ashamed.

"Dean," Sam knocking on the door pushed Dean back into reality and there he stood in his bathroom, faucet running but with water. Hands clean of blood. His heart suddenly seeming nonexistent and his eyes stuck on himself in the mirror. "Dean, you alive in there?"

"Y-Yeah Sammy," Dean said, shutting off the faucet and opening the door. "I'm alive."

"Ok," Sam gave Dean a once over, deciding he looked rough, but he also decided to let it go. "So get this. They just exhumed a body from a local river. Apparently it's been down there for a few months, but it's been drained of all its blood."

Sam turned on the TV in Dean's room and the local news showed the pictures of the river and its surrounding area. It wasn't too far from the bunker. They could make it in less than an hour.

"Fine," Dean said. "Let's go."

"Dean," Sam stopped him. "You good?"

"What do you mean of course I'm good?" Dean scoffed and pushed past Sam, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting on his boots.

"You know what I mean Dean," Sam replied almost sternly. "I mean if you wanna sit this one out that's fine by me?"

"No thanks "mother"," Dean stood and shrugged on his jacket. "Besides, wouldn't wanna miss out on all the action now would I?"

"Whatever you say Dean," Sam turned off his television and Titan opened one eye, his ear perking up at the jingle of Dean's keys. "But I'm serious I mean you just kinda went off the deep end and I mean way off the deep end for awhile. Maybe it'd be good to just—"

"Shotgun," Dean said. "Needs to shut his cakehole. C'mon Titan, you wanna go for the ride?"

Dean whistled for the hound and he sprung up from the carpet faster than a cat on a hot tin roof.

"_Hell yes," _Titan barked. "_No pun intended of course Dean."_

"Dick." Dean smirked and motioned for Sam and Titan to follow him.

"_Ass." _Titan replied.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"This is rather unfortunate," Matthias, a Seraph, said to Castiel who stood over the bodies of Cathar and Belphagor. The two angels had been laid to rest almost immediately following the incident at the jail. "I am sorry Castiel."

"Belphagor and Cathar were dear friends of mine," Castiel couldn't think of anything else to say once again. "They will be missed."

Matthias nodded and walked off towards the other Seraphs who had agreed to help in the deliverance of the bodies. Castiel sighed and walked into the jail straight to Metatron's cell. The door was left open and not a sign of life was to be seen. Castiel looked around the small containment room and his expression went cold. He rifled through the unmade cot hoping for some knowledge on how Metatron managed to escape, but nothing was found. He quickly scanned the rest of the cell; he even looked under the bed, but still found nothing. He saw something though, out of the corner of his eye. It was carved into the wall.

"_If Heaven won't have me, I'll have to raise Hell"_

Castiel traced the words that were carefully etched out on the wall. He glared and furrowed his brows. His mouth opened like a feral dog growling and he angrily yelled. Castiel's breath came out heavy as he laid eyes on the carving again and strode with a purpose out of the jail. He laid eyes on Matthias and the younger Seraph swallowed hard.

"Alert the Council of this if they're not already aware and Father knows they should be," Castiel said. "I know where Metatron has gone and he must be stopped."

"Yes Castiel." Matthias bowed his head and flew off into the Heavens.

"Raise Hell," Castiel said to himself. "Not on my watch."

With that, Castiel took off down to earth.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Alright Titan," Dean said to the hound in the backseat. "Either go invisidog or turn into a human. We're not the K9 Unit."

"_Sure thing," _Titan silently morphed into his human form. His eyes still shone with Heavenly fire though. "That better?"

"Much better," Dean nodded and grabbed his fake ID. "C'mon you two."

Sam nodded and grabbed his as well. He tossed Titan the one they'd had made for him by Jody Mills. Who had remarked beforehand that it broke all kinds of code and laws for her, a police officer, to be doing it, but she hadn't complained ever since. Titan pocketed the ID and straightened the tie he'd managed to "morph" onto his body as well.

The trio approached the crime scene and flashed their fake IDs. The cop, after a moment, let them pass under the tape and approach the body. The medical examiner and the CSI unit were still all over her.

"Hell of a way to die ain't it?" Dean asked the cop.

"And who are you three exactly?" A finicky police officer, just what the doctor ordered.

"FBI." Sam said for Dean and he along with Titan flashed their badges.

"The hell is the FBI doing here," the cop asked. "It's just a murder."

"Similar cases in a town nearby," Sam replied. "Can't be too careful. Who was the victim?"

"A hell of a young lady that's who," the cop replied with a small sigh as he readjusted his hat. "Her name's Lisa Lowery. Twenty six years old, just outta college too. She's been missing for six months. Until now."

Lisa Lowery? Dean's blood went ice cold.

"Anything unusual about her death?" Sam asked, stepping closer to her body. Titan did as well. All Dean wanted to do right now was run.

"_Help me hide the damn body."_

That sentence echoed in his mind, like another ghost. Hell bent on destroying him.

"She was stabbed by something strange," the cop explained. "No kind of entry wound we've ever seen before and nothing to test. It's as if the killer drained her dry."

Drained her dry alright. Dean gulped. He could feel the blood now, on his fingertips.

"Something wrong with your friend over there?" the cop asked Sam and Sam stared at Dean with confusion. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost and not the kind they dealt with.

"Oh don't mind him," Sam lied, he'd gotten better at that over the years. "He had a dear friend with the same name. She died in a freak accident too. That name it just, does weird things to him."

"I see," the cop gave Sam a strange look, but decided to question no further. "Well he looks as if he's about to pass out. You might wanna sit down there buddy."

"Yeah," Dean managed to squeak out. "I mean yeah. I should uh; I should go do that then, yeah."

Dean was rambling, but what else could he say? There before him lay the woman he'd slain that night with Crowley. The woman whose blood lay on his hands. He felt as though his lungs were crawling up his throat and the flashes of red and black returned. He stumbled to the Impala and threw the driver's seat door open. He collapsed in it. He cupped his hand around his mouth and sucked in a shaky breath. He ran his fingers in a circle around his lips like he so often did when he was nervous. He felt his heart pound again. He felt it loud and clear this time just like in the bathroom.

"Hello Dean," Castiel popped into the back seat and Dean jumped again, spinning around to meet the angel's gaze. "Something has come up and we need to talk."

**Read and Reviews are majorly appreciated!**

**So Dean's a psycho? At least he was, but will his demons ever stop haunting him?**

**Will Castiel catch Metatron before he does anything drastic?**

**And what exactly is Metatron up to?**

**More to come soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

After a quick de-briefing from Castiel that the matter at hand he wanted to discuss was indeed of extreme and immediate importance, Dean, Titan, Sam, and Castiel all rode in the Impala to the nearest diner in search of food and hopefully answers. Titan decided to stay in the car, in his hound form, and take another nap. Something Dean was desperately wanting right now. He was almost jealous of the hound's ability to sleep peacefully, since he couldn't anymore. Sam ordered a house salad, Dean a burger, and Castiel a burger as well. The waitress smiled, taking their orders and walking off.

"Metatron has escaped Heaven's jail." Castiel kept his voice low and Dean choked on his drink.

"When," Dean asked. "More importantly though, how?"

"One of my dear friends and his guard Belphagor," Castiel explained, ignoring the drink in front of him. "Gave him his escape unknowingly. He gave him a piece of paper and a pencil in hopes of easing Metatron's supposed boredom. He used the paper and the pencil to write his escape down. He used the powers Father gave him to get away."

"Damn it," Dean cursed and gave a deep sigh, he was trying to take his mind off of where they'd just been. "Do you have any idea where MegaDousche is now?"

"Somewhere on earth," Castiel replied. "Although his exact location is unknown. He could have done anything from changed his appearance to concealed his grace. The Council has been alerted, but they can only do so much and there's only so much they're willing to do. The rest I hate to say Dean will have to be left to us."

"Great," Sam muttered under his breath and leaned in back in the booth. "As usual."

"We'll find this asshole Cas," Dean said. Their food arrived and Sam immediately started to dig in as did Castiel. "For all of our sanity's sake."

Dean looked down at his burger. It was the first one he'd eaten since his transformation. In fact it was the first time he'd felt so hungry in his life. He took the first bite and it was if he could taste all of it. Every molecule electrified his mouth and Dean started to feel more alive than ever. Castiel looked over at him and observed that he was eating. That was good.

"You're healing," Castiel said and Dean stopped mid-bite to look at the angel. "Good. Your lack of appetite until now was worrying me."

"Ok mother," Dean rolled his eyes, but in reality something inside of him was glad that Castiel was worried about him. "The kids are all right now."

"The faster you two stop flirting for two seconds and eat," Sam spoke up. "Then the faster we can get to the bunker and figure out how to find Metatron."

Dean swallowed a little too hard and let out a few coughs that sounded more like choking sounds. Castiel's face remained the same. He showed no response to Sam's statement. In fact, the more Dean looked over at the angel, the more Castiel seemed pained. He seemed older somehow, arthritic almost. He sat stiffly, not relaxed at all. Dean was going to ask, but he chalked it up to Metatron's escape and left it at that. The trio ate in silence for the remainder of their meal and once they were finished they paid the check and got into the Impala. Castiel flew off silently and Dean, Sam, and Titan made their way to their home base for research.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Oh Metatron," Metatron paced back and forth in woods nearby the bunker, concealed from all Angelic means of finding him, he was talking to himself and laughing. "You are so smart. No wonder Father picked you for your job after that screw up Ecanus."

The Scribe paced around his little hideaway. A fire burned bright in the center. There wasn't much to it. He was mostly surrounded by desolate woods and pieces of paper he'd managed to materialize. Most of the papers were covered in giant Xs and had various plans and methods written down on them. Metatron stared at them. He yelled in rage and gathered the papers in his hands, he ran over to the fire and threatened to toss the papers in it, but something caught his eye. The fire itself. It reminded him of a distant place, a place he'd never been before but had written down every word of every angel who had been there's words about it. A place that he knew countless spells, incantations, whatever he wanted to call them, about sending someone there.

As the flames flickered in his eyes he lowered the papers in his hands. What better way to enact his revenge?

"Oh Metatron," Metatron smirked. "You are not only smart. You are a genius."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Dean sat in the library, researching about angels. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand across the stubble on his chin. When Kevin was alive this had been his job. Not that it mattered much now. Dean's eyes strained with the words laid out before him in the old dusty textbook. He sighed and closed the book, deciding to pick up the research on Scribes of Heaven later. He pushed the book aside, knocking another one over onto the floor. The book spilled open to a page Dean hadn't read before. The picture was gruesome, but familiar. It was the face of Cain. Dean immediately became intrigued and picked the book up. He set it in front of him and begun to read:

_Knights of Hell. Hell's most fearsome weapon. They are your above average demon, with advanced speed, strength, and urge to kill combined. They are considered far more dangerous than anything Hell has to offer. _

The picture of Cain was something nightmare worthy. In it, he looked the same as he'd looked when Dean and Crowley had met him, but his eyes were jet black and in his hand he held the First Blade. It was coming down on some poor soul's neck, taking off his head. Cain's eyes made a shiver run up Dean's spine. He'd shared the same look. There were two other pictures, one of Abbadon in her true form. Her name was printed under the photograph of the painting. There was one of a number of Hell Knights marching, all holding polished blades and following Cain, the First Blade burning hot in his hand. Dean knew how that felt.

The book went on to describe their creation, their purpose, and so on. Dean almost shook as he took in the words. They seemed to almost dance off the page, like if he stared too long at the text it would reach out and choke him around the neck. His chest felt tight and his breathing shallow.

_To cure a Knight of Hell is not a common task, but it's not unheard of._

Dean paused to take in a breath.

_In fact the most famous instance of this…_

"Dean," Sam's voice broke Dean from his reading. "They're mentioning the Lowery case on TV; you wanna see what they found?"

Dean swallowed hard. If he protested, Sam might get suspicious. If he didn't, he could keep that secret buried longer than Lisa Lowery herself. Dean nodded and looked over at the book one last time. He closed it carefully and stood from the table. He walked over to where Sam stood and the pair made their way to the living room.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Castiel's back ached. His wings felt like they were slowly, ever so slowly, being picked away even though they remained intact. He'd flown to the Fifth Realm in Heaven, Elysium. Many dead angels made their home there after their demises. Castiel was hoping to see at least one familiar face. Someone to distract him from the pain, but no one appeared when he'd landed. The angel sighed and sat down in the long and green flowing grasses of Elysium and carded his fingers through said grass. It was a peaceful place at least, in a world full of chaos right now.

"Arthritic like pain," a familiar voice said behind Castiel. "Shooting through you like a claw scratching its way up your spine. Pale complexion. Cassie what have you done?"

"Hello Gabriel." Castiel said without meeting eyes with his brother. His look at the diner remained on his face.

"I was there when this was done the first time," Gabriel came closer, standing by his brother and looking down at him. "Do Dean-O and Sammy boy know about this?"

"No," Castiel replied. "And they're not going to ever find out."

"I'm not so sure about that Castiel," Gabriel said, a look of warning shot through his golden eyes. "When you start going downhill they'll notice. Dean will notice first, he always does. If this is your attempt at protecting the brothers then I have to say I'm disappointed."

Castiel stood immediately and glared at his brother. A stance that said he was ready to fight back at any time.

"You'd have done the same," Castiel yelled. "Would you not? If it was someone you cared about!"

"Down boy," Gabriel's wings lowered, submissively. "This is a peaceful Realm. Yes Castiel, I may have at one time. If it came to that, but deep down you and I both know this is wrong. This will only end in pain. Pain for all of you. You know that."

Castiel stared at Gabriel, a completely empty look in his eyes, no emotion whatsoever.

"But," Gabriel sighed. "You don't care. Heaven help you brother."

Castiel flew off, the pain shooting through his wings and much like Gabriel had described: like a claw scratching its way up his spine.

**Read and Reviews are always appreciated and encouraged!**

**So, will the brothers and Castiel ever find Metatron?**

**And what is Metatron's master plan?**

**What was Dean about to read before Sam interrupted him?**

**And I think the number one question on everyone's mind is: What did Castiel do?**

**More to come soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/n: It's been awhile i know, i was traveling and occasionally my elbows give me problems and i can't type. I'm back now. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 6

Dean sat in the bunker's living room. He was still recovering from the news the previous day about the woman who'd been found dead, the woman he'd killed. Dean knew it was too early to be drinking, but that'd never stopped him before. Even now, he sat feet up on the coffee table and body reclined back on the couch, drinking a Pabst Blue Ribbon. He could almost taste every single ingredient in the alcohol. It was that kind of mood.

"Dean," Sam's voice broke the silence. "I think you'll be happy to hear about this?"

"Aw Sammy," Dean smirked playfully and stood up, walking over to his brother who sat in the makeshift dining room. "They finally made pills to cure your bitchyness?"

"Shut up," Sam turned his laptop towards Dean and Dean set his beer down on the dining room table. "So get this, three different motorists have all witnessed a man walking down the main highway at odd hours."

"So what," Dean took a sip of his beer, leaning his head back to get every last drop. "Probably some old hobo?"

"The man is described as wearing a city worker's uniform covered in blood and torn," Sam explained. "And here's the kicker, he's reported to disappear before their eyes. He's already caused a number of accidents."

"Ok," Dean wiped his chin of the beer he'd spilled. "Now I'm interested."

"It's in Manassas, Virginia," Sam showed Dean the details. "If we leave now we could make it by evening time."

Dean nodded and Sam gathered up his laptop and pushed in the chair to the table. He turned to leave, but then paused a moment to look back at his brother.

"Are you sure we should just leave like this," Dean asked. "What with Metadouche on the loose and all, I mean wouldn't we be the biggest walking targets?"

"Cas said he'd handle it," Sam replied, purposely misquoting Castiel. Truth is, Sam had been looking for any excuse to get out of the bunker ever since his encounter with the "Kevin" his brain had produced. The manifestation had left him with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. "I think he'll be fine for a few days."

Dean was skeptical, but he knew better than to argue with his brother nowadays. It'd been nothing but turmoil and nightmares lately. They had been bickering and fighting like Tom and Jerry, but with less dynamite and more words. Sam left Dean alone in the room, television on, and an empty bottle of Pabst in the older hunter's clenched hand. He felt bad for leaving the Metatron search to Castiel, but like Sam had said: Castiel would handle it. He was perfectly capable and besides it would only be for a few days. Dean gazed at the television one more time, the image of the woman he'd killed burning into his retinas, and then he slammed the off button on the remote he was sure he'd broken it. Dean walked away from the living room and tossed his empty glass into the hollow trash can, shattering it.

"_How appropriate." _He thought to himself, he'd been nothing but shattered lately.

He whistled for Titan and the hound lifted his head and stretched before bounding over next to his master and looking up at him. Titan's eyes shone once as he prepared to speak, but once he clearly knew he was getting no explanation from Dean he simply followed him to his room where the hunter begun to pack for the long journey ahead.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The ride to Manassas, Virginia had been long, but well worth it when Sam, Dean, and Titan had finally made it to the motel. Dean stepped out and stretched his legs momentarily before they went in to rent a room, Sam grumbled and tossed his laptop bag over his shoulder, Titan slinked out of the back seat and yawned.

"Next time," Sam said, fanning in front of his nose. "Don't feed that dog before you put him in the car."

"_Hey," _Titan said. "_Long car rides cross country without an explanation makes me nervous which in turn makes me gassy."_

"Hey well if Sammy ate a bean burrito," Dean laughed at the hound's statement. "You two would make the perfect traveling pair."

"Not the time Dean," Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna get us checked in. Don't talk to strangers."

"Stop babying me," Dean said. "I've got a big fierce Angelhound with me, nobody's gonna mess with our stuff or me—"

Dean looked over as Titan licked every square inch of his body, not paying attention to anything Dean was saying.

"_What?" _the hound looked up in confusion at the sudden silence and Dean's prying eyes.

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "Sure yah do."

While Sam walked off to get their room and keys, Dean lingered near the front of the motel parking lot. A ways away from the Impala, but close enough to keep an eye on her, the sun was just beginning to set. The occasionally vehicle zoomed past Dean and Titan, who was currently sniffing the ground nearby, down the country road. There was a small town nearby whose roads led to Nokesville, Virginia and to Washington DC, the nation's capital. A place crawling with feds and a place Dean and Sam tried to avoid at all costs considering their occupation went against numerous federal laws. Sure, they had met a few "good cops" as they'd come to call them: Sheriff Jody Mills, a dear friend of the brothers, that one female cop whose name had escaped Dean for the time being, even Henrickson, a former FBI agent had been their side near the end. But, all in all, the two usually avoided anything that had to do with any federal agents of any sorts.

Dean sighed and kicked a rock in the dirt. He wondered if it had been the right move to leave the bunker and Castiel alone on his search for the escaped Metatron. He felt as though he was throwing Castiel to the wolves on this one. Something had been off about the angel ever since Dean had been put back into his right state of mind. Now Dean didn't believe in coincidences, but something smelled fishy about this one. Then again, God only know what Castiel had been going through ever since Dean had died…again. Dean decided he wasn't going to delve too deeply into it, but he also knew there was no way in Hell he could stop thinking about it.

"Dean," Sam broke the elder Winchester out of his trance. "I got our room, let's go interview some witnesses before the sun goes down completely."

Dean looked over at Titan who was already running over to Sam; he morphed into a human halfway through his running and stopped at the trunk of the car to assist Sam with the bags. Dean looked up at the sky one last time, as if he were making sure the stars were still there and he wasn't back where he was before, and strode over to his brother, picking up a bag and walking towards their room.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Castiel had scoured the woods multiple times, looking for signs. The Winchesters had left him; the lights had been out in the bunker when Castiel had landed outside to update them. He couldn't blame them though; he'd witnessed firsthand how hunters got when they were idle for too long. Castiel grimaced when he landed, steadying himself with a hand on the dirt floor of the forest. The sun had almost set and pretty soon he'd be working with total darkness. Castiel was used to the darkness, he knew that firsthand too. He just wished he'd started earlier, he'd never find Metatron in this.

Castiel cursed under breath, a habit he'd picked up from Dean, Dean. Castiel thought of him every time the pain radiated through his body. He thought of the outcome, the consequences, but he didn't care anymore. It would be worth it in the end. It was worth it now. Castiel balanced and propelled himself upward into flight. He tried to stay in motion, but it hurt too much. He landed again, this time thankfully more gracefully. He turned his head from left to right, listening for anything at all. When he heard nothing, he moved on.

He'd always liked forests best out of all of Father's earthly creations, besides humans. He liked their strength throughout the storm, how even if one tree fell, or even if all of them did, the forest always grew back if it was without human interruption, he liked how forests were seemingly endless even though like everything else, even inevitably him, came to an end. He always lived by the creed of the forest: "Stand Tall, Be Strong, and Never Give Up."

Boy had he disobeyed the last part of the creed.

Castiel stopped suddenly; he realized that there was indeed one issue with the forest right now. He didn't know why he hadn't realized it earlier.

It was too quiet.

Castiel retracted his angel blade and spun around in a circle, prepared to strike. The blade felt heavy in his palm, his lips were pursed, prepared to utter curses at whatever should come his way. That was when he heard it.

_"Help me brother!" _

_"Brother, help me!"_

It was Gadreel's voice.

That was impossible, Gadreel was dead.

_"Castiel, save me! Please!" _

Balthazar's voice rang out in the darkness, after Castiel had flown to the source of Gadreel's voice: nothing. Castiel could feel his heart rate increasing.

"_Castiel!" _

Anna

Castiel flew there, he found nothing.

_"Dammit Castiel, help me!"_

Uriel

Castiel found nothing again.

_"Cas!"_

Gabriel

Castiel's heart was pounding. His back felt heavy from the flying. He was finding nothing.

_"Damn it Cas! Cas!"_

Dean

That was the final straw, Castiel lay on the dirt, pained, tired, from the flying the voices. The awful voices haunting him. He let out a cry of agony as the voices became louder, they surrounded him. Castiel covered his head like one would during an earthquake, he shook a little.

_"Cas!"_

_"Damn it Cas!"_

_"Castiel!"_

_"Save me Castiel! Why didn't you save me?!"_

The voices were eventually drowned out by only one.

"_I am coming for you Castiel."_

Metatron.

Castiel gritted his teeth as the voices of his dead, his mistakes, and his living faded away slowly. Castiel stood, slowly, shaking. His angel blade had been abandoned beside him and he swallowed hard as he picked it up. The forest had returned to its natural state at night. The moon shone brightly now through the tops of the trees, the leaves rustled, an owl hooted in the distance. An uneasy feeling was in the pit of Castiel's stomach.

"Not if I get to you first," Castiel said, glaring into the darkness, hoping wherever Metatron was he saw it and it burned him to his very core. "And trust me, I will."

Castiel flew away, his wing aching.

A devious smile and eyes followed his flight out of the forest.

**Read and Reviews are appreciated! I like to know how I'm doing.**

**Love it? Hate it so far? Anything you'd like to see? Let me know!**

**So, is Dean imagining things or does his redemption have to do with Castiel?**

**What was up with Castiel in the forest? **

**Will they find Metatron? And will the brothers complete their hunt successfully?**

**Find out soon, when I install the next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I am so sorry for the sparatic updates guys. A lot has been going on lately and I've been neglecting this site because the things that have come up are far more important first and foremost, but I will try to update this story more frequently. I start college soon so ultimately that's my priority and not this, I have a condition known as "tennis elbow" in both of my elbows which involves a lot of pain and random flare ups so I never know when it's going to happen: once again, making it difficult to type. But I will fulfill my promise to finish this story before October (the Season 10 Premiere), now then, on with it.**

Chapter 7

"So you're saying this man he just," Sam paused a moment, hoping to bait the interviewee into answering him in the way the brothers had hoped. "Disappeared before your eyes?"

"Yessiree," Gloria Burns, the woman Sam and Dean had decided to interview last. She was the only one of the witnesses who hadn't seemed to go completely mad after their accidents. Mr. Robert Welch had been of no help to the brothers whatsoever. He'd only repeated exactly what the local police had told them and the other man, Mr. Paul Dawson, had proceeded to rock back and forth a little in his chair seemingly still scared out of his wits even though the accident had occurred the evening of three days prior. Gloria was the only one with a good head on her shoulders thus far. "One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. It was almost like magic."

"Magic you say," Sam replied. "Do you believe in magic Ms. Burns?"

"Why heaven's no young man I don't," Gloria shook her head and leaned back in her chair, setting down the tea she'd been drinking with the brothers had arrived on her doorstep flashing badges and demanding answers. "Ghosts however,"

Sam paused again. At least they were getting somewhere with this woman. He thought carefully about how to word his reply.

"What do you know about ghosts," Sam inquired. "If I may ask, that is, Ms. Burns?"

"Have you ever lived in the country young man?" Gloria asked Sam.

"No Ms. Burns," Sam chuckled a little, drinking from the cup full of coffee she'd given both him and Dean. Dean hadn't touched his yet, instead he'd done something Sam was shocked about, and he'd leaned back and listened to her speak, staying quiet as ever. "I can't say I've had the pleasure to do so."

"Lots of folks in these parts Agent Hurley," that had been the fake name Sam had given her. "They aren't used to going not even, but a mile up the road and not seeing a cross on the side of it. Death happens here every day and every night."

"I believe it," Sam said, coaxing her into saying more. This was just what they needed. "What, with all the winding roads and speeding drivers."

"Oh but the country holds her secrets young man," Gloria's eyes seemed to have this glimmer to them when she said that, Sam took notice. "Not everyone died of what the police say they did. Only they know and only He knows."

She pointed upwards with a shaky older hand and picked up her tea cup again; taking a drink and setting it back down.

"There is good and evil in this world young man," Gloria said, with that Dean was immediately taken back to that night. He could feel the shivers crawling up his back as he pinned that innocent young woman against the wall. He remembered the smell of her as he sniffed up her neck, the black of his eyes and the fear in hers. "And you can always tell good from evil by the ghost left behind."

Dean's eyes stared blankly over at Gloria. She met his for a moment, almost as if she were staring at the ghost Dean would someday become. He felt violated and he looked away, behind her then back out the window to the busy street. Sam decided to let out his frustration with his brother later.

"So you're saying this ghost you claim to have seen," Sam asked. "Was he evil?"

"Oh no young man this ghost was anything but evil," she replied, Sam noticed she seemed almost personally saddened by what she said next. "But he's had an evil thing done to him."

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"Really appreciated the lack of focus Dean," Sam snidely remarked to his brother as they were walking to the Impala. "Thanks for helping me out back there."

"Well genius whilst you were busy "ghost geeking" as I like to call it with granny in there," Dean cut him off before he could say more. "You didn't happen to notice the ever appropriate picture behind her."

"I was not "geeking" Mr. Zone-Out," Sam replied. "And what picture?"

"The late but great Mr. Edgar Burns," Dean explained as they approached the car. "Dressed to the hills in his work uniform…his city worker uniform had his arms around two other guys. One of which matches that of our supposed ghost. I happened to get the date too, early 90's. Which means the guy on his left; he's most likely still alive and kicking."

"So find him," Sam put two and two together. "And maybe we'll get some real answers."

"Bingo." Dean said as he closed the driver side door and Sam the passenger side, Dean started up the car and the pair drove off. Sam thought about giving Dean a hard time about focusing on the task at hand once again, but decided against it fearing at this point his brother would pull over the car and throw him out. He knew the probability of that was low, but hell, he didn't ever know what Dean was thinking nowadays.

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"Yeah we all worked for the city," Mr. Wade Perkins led the brothers into his living room, small shot of whiskey in hand. "We even worked on the same damn road too. What of it?"

"Well Mr. Perkins," Sam calmly explained. "Recently there was a new crew hired to fix that stretch road once again and numerous people have reported seeing the spirit of an old colleague of yours."

"Sonny the only spirits I believe in," Wade sat down in a rather worn armchair and held up his glass. "Is these ones."

Wade swallowed down the whiskey like it was nothing. Dean shook his head to clear his thoughts before he sat down across from Wade, on the equally as worn couch. Sam spoke first.

"Is there any possible explanation," Sam asked, ignoring Wade's previous comment about spirits. He took a moment to recall the name of the ghost; the police had informed his death to be the only one along that road that matched the description. "As to why the spirit of Thomas Thames would be haunting that road Mr. Perkins?"

"Hell, the old boy loved working on that thing," Wade laughed, a wheezy kind of laugh. "He was such a dear friend to us, maybe he figured we'd still be working there when he came back to visit?"

Dean knew he could only take this guy for so long, but something in Wade's eyes changed when he heard Thomas' name. He blinked, almost too much. He laughed more nervously. His fingers gripped the shot glass like it was keeping him afloat.

"Unless," Dean finally spoke up, Sam staring at him. "He wasn't always your good friend Mr. Perkins?"

"Whatchu talkin about son," Wade said, rather defensively. "Thomas was a good man, one of the best I've ever met. He had not a bad bone in his lanky little body. We were all friends. Good friends at that."

"Oh I don't deny that Wade," Dean scoffed sarcastically and laughed a little before looking back at Wade. "But Hell I mean even I've seen the best of friends suddenly break up, especially if money was involved. I mean I hear the city doesn't pay as much as they used to."

"If you're insinuating what I think you are boy," Wade's look turned almost vicious. "You've got another think coming."

"Do I," Dean smirked a little; he always knew when he'd hooked them. "Then tell me I'm wrong Wade. Tell me I'm wrong."

Wade and Dean stared at each other for awhile until Wade started to break. Dean knew he had him now. Wade's fists clenched and he sneered. He suddenly threw his glass and it shattered against the floor before him. Dean didn't even flinch.

"You don't know nothing," Wade yelled. "You feds are paid higher than any other of us city folk. You sit all cushy in your nice little offices and couches with your supermodel wives and your five figure salaries! We don't get paid shit compared to you!"

"I don't recall Thomas Thames being a fed," Dean said, calmly, more calmly than Sam was used to. "But I do require doing my research on your little buddy Wade, he seemed to be well liked by the boss man."

"Me and Edgar needed the money more." Wade said through clenched teeth, his muscles convulsing under dirty his wife beater tank top.

"So it was about money then." Dean said.

Wade was about to protest, but he could see now how Dean had hooked him. He had reeled him into to somewhere where he couldn't break free from the line. Wade sighed, leaning forward a bit and running a hand up from his face through his shaggy black hair.

"Edgar," Wade started to explain. "He had a condition."

Dean nodded as if to say: "go on."

"You know the big "C" as they call it," Wade explained. "Cancer. He wasn't paid enough as it was to begin with. He didn't have anything great to leave his wife with after he was inevitably going to kick the bucket. I had a wife and kids. Thomas he, he had nothing."

"Nothing?" Sam inquired.

"Thomas was just barely hitting thirty," Wade continued. "He was the new guy. Don't get me wrong, we liked the guy. He was a hard worker, smart as could be, heart of gold. We would've followed this guy to the end. We did. His end though, not ours. The boss man started taking a liking to Thomas though. He started offering him higher wage, for more labor of course and the man would do it. But he never once looked at us, the older guys, who'd worked their heart and soul off in this job long enough to wear their shoes thin with holes, and gave us the same offer. Only Thomas. Always only ever Thomas."

Wade stopped a moment and took a shaky breath.

"Needless to say Edgar and me, we didn't like it. Thomas was our dearest friend, but he was in our way. I'll admit that he was in our way in our eyes. So the first time we were working on that main road out there. The first night, we told Thomas the wrong time that we were starting at. We got him there early. Edgar he, distracted him while I got the mixer ready and started up. We'd dug a hole where we were putting in the rest of the road and together we beat him up and we…pushed Thomas into the hole. He yelled and yelled and screamed, but his cries fell on deaf ears. Our ears. I started up the mechanism for the cement mixer and it poured onto him like a waterfall. The last thing I remember seeing was his eyes, his terrified eyes and I heard one last cry and then he—"

Wade didn't have to say any more. Dean got the gist of what the men had done. Wade shook a little, face in his hand. He'd drowned in cement. Buried alive. One of Dean's least favorite ways to die, he'd sure done a lot of them.

"We told the boss we'd done overtime and we'd filled the hole ourselves," Wade finished his story. "He didn't seem to read too much into it. He paid us for that. He paid us for k-killing our friend. I felt so cold, so clammy, taking the check. But I did it anyway. We told him some lie about how Thomas had decided to leave town after he hadn't shown up to work in a few days. The boss believed us and for once he, he offered us the extra money and we took it."

"And look where it got you." Dean replied. He'd pictured every detail of Wade's story.

"My wife and kids lived a damn good life while they were around," Wade argued. "Edgar's wife is doing great ever since he died. She's living the life he'd have wanted for her!"

Sam and Dean took one look at each other and stood.

"We thank you for your time Mr. Perkins," Sam nodded. "And we do believe you've given us all of the information we needed thank you."

Sam and Dean started to walk off.

"Ain't yah gonna arrest me or something," Wade swallowed hard. "I mean I did just confess to murder?"

"We'll leave it to the professionals." Dean replied.

"But ain't ya'll the professionals?" Wade asked as the pair departed.

"Only on Tuesdays." Dean said with a small smirk, earning a look from Sam as the pair made their way from Wade Perkins' house to the Impala parked at the curb.

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"On Tuesday's Dean," Sam said in an accusatory manner. "Really, I thought we were over bringing that up?"

"Au Contraire Sammy," Dean replied as the two of them sat opposite each other in the motel room, cleaning guns and filling the ammo with salt rounds. "I thought it fit."

Sam sighed as he filled his weapon.

"Dean," Sam said. "We need to talk about this."

"About what exactly," Dean asked. "What did I say about chick flick moments Sam?"

"This is not a damn chick flick moment Dean," Sam raised his voice a bit; Titan lifted his head off the ground in response. The hound had been sleeping nearby them. "This is about you."

"Even worse." Dean rolled his eyes and stood, trying to walk away from Sam.

"Dean we can't just go on without talking about this," Sam grabbed his brother's shoulder, spinning him around to face him. "You were a demon for God's sake Dean, a demon for months. Then suddenly one day you're lying in bed and you wake up after Cas leaves for somewhere, fine. Doesn't that seem a bit suspicious to you?"

"If you're saying Cas did something stupid for me—" Dean said, growing angry.

"I'm sure he did," Sam exclaimed. "It's always him doing something stupid when it involves you Dean!"

Dean and Sam paused a moment, staring at each other. Dean knew what Sam was saying. Everything Castiel did that essentially risked his life, besides just being an angel in general, involved Dean. It made sense, the brothers were Castiel's charge. From what Dean understood about angel's charges they were sworn to protect them at all costs. For some reason Dean hadn't pegged yet though, Castiel always seemed to go the extra mile for him in particular.

"Are we gonna argue about this or are we gonna fill guns with salt?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing and his shoulders tense from the debate. He pushed past Sam and back to his bed where he continued to load salt filled ammo into the barrel of his gun.

"You can't ignore this forever Dean," Sam warned him. "You know that."

"Right now," Dean replied, getting rather annoyed once again with his brother. "I'd like to run this case like we always do, like we always did, without all the family drama bullshit. Then maybe once we get back to home base you can convince me to talk. Maybe."

Sam's lip quivered in preparation to say something else, but he didn't. Instead he cocked his rifle and briskly walked out to the Impala to place it in the trunk, slamming the door behind him. Titan jumped a little when Sam did so and stood, stretched, then trotted over to Dean.

_"He just wants what's best for you Dean." _Titan reminded the elder brother, Dean stopped cleaning his gun to pet the dog behind the ears. Dean wanted to reply, but suddenly found that he couldn't find the words. So instead, he simply continued to scratch behind the hound's ears until Sam informed him it was time to leave.

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Dean and Sam stood at the top of the hill overlooking the scenic highway that had been closed by the city per a "safety request". In reality Sam had forged a phone call stating why it needed to be closed, claiming there was a potentially dangerous wild animal loose and he thought it would be in the best interest of the citizens including him to stay away. Once that was taken care of the brothers had carefully parked the Impala away from the scene and forged a path by foot to where they stood now. Titan crouched beside them, ready to strike at any time. Dean relied on his night vision whereas Sam had brought with him a pair of binoculars from the trunk and was watching the area.

"How long do you think it'll be before old man Thames makes his appearance?" Dean asked.

"Patience really isn't in your vocabulary is it Dean?" Sam replied.

"Bite me." Dean said.

Titan let out a collective sigh at the two brothers before a bug caught his attention instead, he snapped at it and caught it in his mouth before swallowing it. Dean grimaced when Titan looked back at him.

"Dean look," Sam pointed at the barren stretch of road, in the center of it appeared Thomas Thames, long dead and looking slightly pissed off. "I think that's our guy."

Dean nodded and cocked his shotgun, followed by Sam doing the same and Titan growling at the apparition.

"Titan, stand down," Sam said and the hound whined, sitting back down. "Nothing personal buddy, it's just we'll need you for backup in case something goes wrong."

Dean rubbed behind the hound's ear as Titan solemnly hunched his shoulders and sat back down.

"Let's go get this son of a bitch." Dean said and the brothers sprang forward, bounding down the hill as quietly as they could so as not to scare away Thomas. Dean motioned for Sam to take the back way around and Dean would take the front, they agreed to meet on either side of the ghost so that they'd have a better chance of vanquishing him. Dean stepped out of the darkness and just as he'd hoped Thomas' eyes turned to him.

"Hey there Thomas," Dean said, his voice almost echoing, the highway was so deserted. "How goes it?"

"Who are you," the ghost of Thomas said to Dean in an accusatory manner. "You don't work here!"

"Damn right I don't," Dean replied, stepping a bit closer. "But neither do you anymore, it's time to move on buddy."

"I'm not going anywhere," Thomas glared suddenly and started to advance on Dean. "Not until those assholes pay for what they've done!"

Dean dodged Thomas' attack with professional speed and landed on his butt in the dirt and like the ghost he was, Thomas disappeared moments later. Dean knew it was only a matter of time before he came back though. Sam had joined his brother, witnessing the showdown.

"Vengeful spirit," Dean shifted to look over at Sam, who was headed his way. "This is gonna be fun."

"We didn't have to take this case yah know?" Sam replied.

"Shut up and help me up," Dean grunted when Sam took hold of his hand and helped lift him to his feet. "Any way you can think of to kill this guy?"

"No I," Sam's eyes went wide. "Dean! Look out!"

Dean ducked just in time to allow Thomas to jolt past him, Thomas crackled like a bad television screen and disappeared again. He only gave Sam and Dean a few minutes to catch their breath before he started to throw things at them. Tools, small equipment, Dean and Sam took cover behind a nearby bulldozer.

"Ok," Dean said. "He's pissed. How do we kill him?"

"We can't burn his bones Dean," Sam stated. "They're buried under tons of cement. We don't have that kind of time."

Dean thought back to the interviewees. One of them in particular: Wade. He'd claimed Thomas had loved this job as much as life itself. Dean remembered the police reports, then Sam's research on Thomas. How he'd done almost every job on the construction site…except his favorite was…

Dean looked over at the forklift across from them and smirked a little. Sam gave his brother a worried look.

"Oh no," Sam said. "You are not suggesting what I think you are."

"Sammy," Dean patted his brother's shoulder. "How'd yah like to crash and burn a forklift?"

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The plan was simple. Dean was to distract Thomas while Sam drove the forklift into slight oblivion. Dean had almost said it was foolproof, but he hadn't wanted to jinx it so he'd kept his mouth shut. Sam took his position behind the forklift as Dean crept out from the shadows once again to face Thomas who was standing above the patch of concrete he'd been buried under, confused as to where his attackers had gone.

"Hey Tommy boy," Dean announced. "It's quitting time, works over!"

"No," Thomas growled. "Work's not over, not for me! Not after what those bastards did to me!"

"Thomas," Dean tried to plead with him. "Please. That was years ago. You have to move on."

"They will pay!" Thomas cried out and advanced on Dean. "And so will you!"

Dean muttered a string of curse words and took off running, avoiding littered tools in his path. He prayed Sam would be ready with the forklift any minute now, but the younger Winchester was having trouble getting it started.

"Damn it Sam!" Dean yelled as Thomas ran after him. "Hurry up!"

"I'm trying Dean!" Sam yelled back. "I've almost got it!"

Dean ran further and further, trying not to take off towards his brother's direction. Eventually though Dean tripped over a piece of concrete and landed on his hands and knees. He paused a moment for breath, but then found he was unable to get up. Thomas Thames had a ghostly hand around Dean's neck and was slowly depleting his oxygen. Dean choked, reaching his fingers into the gravel trying to push himself up and away, but to no avail. Thomas kept a firm hand on his trachea.

"S-Sammy now would b-be a good time as ever!" Dean rasped out.

Sensing his brother's distress, Sam started up the forklift faster than lightning. Thomas stopped choking Dean and looked back at what the younger brother was doing. Thomas' eyes went wide.

"No," Thomas cried out. "No! That's my job! Stop!"

Sam didn't stop, he drove the forklift faster and faster. Letting a trail of gas leak from the bottle he held next to him. Sam carefully drove with his knee and lit a match, before dropping it and jumped from the forklift, barrel rolling onto the ground below. He took off running, yelling for Dean to follow him and Dean did. Thomas Thames watched at the forklift went up in flames and screamed: No! repeatedly. Dean and Sam ran to take cover and found it just as Thomas' body and the forklift both burst into flames and the forklift exploded once said flames reached its engine. Sam and Dean looked up as the embers flew from the scene and thick black smoked poured up into the sky. The brothers looked at each other for a moment before Dean laughed.

"Well," he said. "We got him."

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Sam and Dean paid for their room and left that night. It was only a matter of time before someone reported the explosion and fire and they wanted to be as far away from all that as possible. Titan was in the back seat of the car, sighing contently in his sleep. Sam sat in the passenger seat, staring forward out the window and Dean drove, humming softly to the classic rock station playing on the radio.

"You can't avoid the topic forever Dean," Sam said, Dean knew exactly what he was referring to. "Eventually we're gonna have to talk about it."

Dean nodded in response, not glorifying Sam's statement with a verbal answer. Sam sighed and turned his head away, knowing it was better to let sleeping dogs lie for the time being. The brothers, with their long journey back to the bunker ahead of them, quietly drove on into the night.

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dean and Sam arrived back at the bunker faster than anticipated. Dean parked the Impala near the front in the gravel driveway and opened the back door for Titan. The hound hopped out and stretched before yawning and using his "angel mojo" as Dean called it, he disappeared before Dean's eyes probably into the bunker. Dean sighed and closed the back door, popped the trunk, and started to gather the weapons they needed to clean and fix. Sam let out a breath he was unaware he'd been holding and walked over to the front door, unlocking it and going inside. Dean soon followed.

The bunker was quiet except for the echo of Titan's paws somewhere in there. There were no signs of life, Castiel clearly hadn't stayed there in the brothers' absence, there was an empty water glass in the sink, but that had been Sam's before they'd left. Sam stood at the sink and ran water through the glass, dried it off, and put it away all before his phone rang.

"Hello," Sam answered a bit gruffly from hours of not talking in the car per Dean's request, but his voice became light and airy a moment later and he smiled. "Jody."

Dean smiled a bit too, but he didn't offer his time. Instead he grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch. He turned on the TV to a channel showing re-runs once of Dr. Sexy M.D. once again. Titan appeared before him and hopped up on the couch. Lying with him like a regular dog. Dean threw his arm over his hound and kicked up his feet, sipping his beer.

"Yeah he's here," Sam said, looking over at the scene then walking off to his room. "But he's kinda tired. I'll talk to yah though."

"I should hope so," Jody replied to him from her end, she was currently slaving over a hot stove making a pot of spaghetti. The steam was rising up, making her cheeks a nice shade of pink. She switched the receiver to other ear as she stirred the noodles. "I did take the time to call you after all and whilst I'm making dinner too. Feel honored."

Sam chuckled and balanced the phone against his cheek as he sat down on his bed and begun to take his boots off.

"So I hope you boys have been keeping busier than me," Jody sighed and pressed "stop" on the timer. "Besides the force and all."

"Actually yeah," Sam replied. "We just finished a hunt. Ghost city worker on a highway, made a big boom if you know what I mean."

"You know blowing things up is a federal crime," Jody laughed a bit. "There are a few things you probably shouldn't tell me Sam."

"But I know you won't tell on us," Sam laughed too. "Will you?"

"No," Jody rolled her eyes playfully. "I suppose I won't. Hold on one second. Alex honey can you please set the table for dinner?"

"Still slaving that girl away huh Jody," Sam teased and Jody rolled her eyes once again. "It's probably good for her. For both of you."

"She's a Godsend honestly," Jody said, a moment of silence between of them before she spoke again. "How are you doing Sam? I mean you and Dean…you know after…"

Sam knew she was referring to Dean's demon-hood. Sam sighed. There were times when he wished he hadn't kept Jody in the loop. He didn't even know what to tell her.

"He's…cured." Sam choked out the words.

"Cured," Jody said, a bit accusatory, her voice lowered. "Sam I swear if you made a deal."

"No," Sam reassured her. "I didn't. It just…it doesn't add up Jody. One day Dean's snapping necks, the next he's snapping up in bed perfectly fine. The angel, Castiel, he claimed he had some way to fix Dean, but I just want to what he did. He's not talking though."

"Have you talked to Dean about it all?" Jody asked, Sam sighed again; he hated lying to her so he chose not to.

"He won't talk," Sam replied. "He never wants to talk about it."

"I swear you two have the unhealthiest relationship," Jody said, starting to sound more and more motherly. "But I suppose if he has no answers either…"

The phone line went quiet for a bit, neither Sam nor Jody knowing what to say, but then Jody decided to break the ice once again.

"Well Sam, Alex and I have to eat dinner now but," Jody shifted the phone again. "Please for your own sanity and my sake, talk to your brother whether he likes it or not and you two take of yourselves. I'll call you if there's a hunt or you call me if you need me ok?"

"Ok Jody," Sam said. "I'll talk to you later. Have a nice dinner."

Jody hung up and Sam set his phone down on his side table. Sam lay back on his bed and crossed his arms behind his arms, closing his eyes.

"_You're just gonna lie around like that?" _

Kevin Tran's voice hissed through Sam's head. He shot up in bed with a start, panting, his heart beating a mile a minute. Sam looked around his room, to assure he was alone, and then chalked it up to little sleep the night before. He lay back down and closed his eyes again.

_"Wake the hell up!"_

His voice sent shivers up Sam's spine. He was now in a cold sweat. He looked around again.

"Kevin," Sam said, getting rather annoyed with this, Kevin was gone he'd gone with his mother to her house, why was he haunting Sam still and why now? "You're not real. You went home with your mom."

"_The veil allows me to go where I want Sam," His_ hallucination of Kevin, or so he hoped, spoke to him in a different manner than that of the Kevin who'd been alive. He sounded, troubled, angry. "_Metatron won't let me leave this plane and here you lie, my killer, lying on your ass and not doing a god damned thing about it."_

"Kevin that was Gadreel," Sam argued back, he felt stupid for doing so, he couldn't even see the teen. He only heard his disconnected voice in his head. "Not me. You…you can't blame me for that."

"_You saved your brother Sam," _Kevin's voice pounded in his skull and he could almost see the young teen at the foot of his bed, angry, gripping the bed frame like it was his last means of support, gesticulating wildly at Sam. "_Always your brother. Never anyone else. You ever stop to think how many people you could've possibly saved in your lifetime Sam? But no, it's always Dean."_

"Dean's my brother." Sam replied defensively.

"_Dean's my brother," _Kevin did a whiny imitation of Sam, making a face and moving his hands like they were a mouth. "_Oh suck it up! Don't you ever stop and think how you could possibly live without him?"_

Sam cocked his head at his hallucination of Kevin and looked at him like he was crazy, but there was a hint of something else that Kevin saw.

_"I'm right aren't I," _Kevin smirked. "_Admit it Sam. There were times when Dean just couldn't let you go and it pissed. You. Off."_

"Shut up." Sam snapped.

"_It's true," _Kevin laughed, there was a hint of frustration in it. "_All those times Dean's saved your ass when you didn't want it to be saved, but God forbid you shouldn't save his when he's in the same situation. It'd be a shame."_

"Stop talking about him that way," Sam growled and stood up, facing his hallucination of Kevin. "You're being an asshole!"

_"And you just don't want to admit I'm right," _Kevin cocked his head and gave Sam a shit eating grin. "_Just think about it Sam, ok?"_

Sam's hallucination of Kevin disappeared, leaving the younger Winchester alone. Sam rubbed his temples. This was worse than being harassed and haunted by Lucifer all those years ago, slightly less than the trials though. Although Kevin had a point, Sam stopped himself. He couldn't afford to think like that. Not now. Not ever. Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts and grabbed a towel from the chair at his desk and went to take a long hot shower.

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Dean's television zoning was quickly interrupting by Castiel flying in out of nowhere and sitting next to him on the nearby armchair. Titan lifted his head at the appearance of another angelic life form and Dean pressed mute on the television remote.

"Hello Dean." Castiel said.

"Hey yourself Cas," Dean replied and turned to his angelic friend. "Any news worth knowing?"

"I have narrowed down my search for Metatron," Castiel replied more gruffly than usual, like he was in pain again. "I've determined he's not out of state, as to how far away he is from us is still undetermined."

"Well," Dean smiled a bit. "It's progress at least…you ok Cas?"

"I am fine Dean," Castiel shifted a bit in the seat, leaning back like an older man. "I assure you."

Dean didn't want to believe Castiel. He wanted to question him further. To understand why the angel was hurting and hiding it. But Dean decided not to and instead he turned his attention back to Dr. Sexy on television and un-muted it just in time for another make out session between some doctor and some nurse.

"I thought she was seeing the other man," Castiel spoke up in observation before laying his head back in the chair. "She's cheating on him?"

"Yep," Dean explained. "It's just that kinda show Cas."

Castiel smiled a little bit, something foreign nowadays for him. He didn't let the smile fade from his mouth even after his eyes closed. He was content with listening to the audio of the show and even chuckling at the appropriate parts. Dean smiled over at his friend and scratched behind Titan's ears. He found it strange, but he also couldn't imagine being anywhere else in that moment. So that was exactly how Dean Winchester spent his afternoon: Watching Dr. Sexy M.D. with angels and drinking beer after beer.

**Reviews are greatly appreciated! :)**

**The next chapter should be out soon guys! I hope you enjoyed this one and you're enjoying the story so far! Any comments, questions, concerns, or things you'd like to see? Let me know!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: You are in luck NatalieJulow, I will be updating this story probably almost every day or night where I am, so I'd check back to it almost every day. I'm glad you like it and your review was amazing and heartfelt and I thank you from the bottom of my soul. I'm glad you like Titan, I was worried people would freak since he's not really in the show and this a Season 10 AU, but people seem to have taken to him well in this story and my other stories he is in. I thank you for taking the time to review and don't worry about how long they are, the longer the better in my opinion. It's reviews like yours that keep me writing, so again, thank you so much. **

**And as for you morgan: I'm glad you like it as well. I know it's not your fandom, but thank you again for taking the time to review. **

Chapter 9

Dean Winchester stared at himself in his bathroom mirror. He didn't like what he saw. Not that that was unusual or anything for Dean, but now he seemed more tainted than he'd ever been before. He felt like a zombified shell of a man. There was this bloodlust that still stung deep in his eyes, something he was afraid he could never get rid of. In fact that had become a bigger fear than Metatron's escape from Heavenly prison. Not that Dean was afraid of the likes of him or anything, but the thought that the angel that had essentially screwed Heaven for life was free instead of in the confines he belonged in definitely had put Dean in a great state of unease.

Castiel being in the vicinity that night had been a breath of fresh air for him though. He had felt almost claustrophobic with Sam around. Too many words had gone unsaid between the two of them in the past week. In the past lifetime for that matter, granted too many unsaid words had been passed between Castiel and him over the years, but with Castiel it was somehow different. With Castiel there was no impending doom when things went unsaid or unresolved. Castiel was still there, he still forgave Dean for the way he was, for the way he'd acted over the many years the two had known each other. Castiel hadn't judged him either, not like Sam had.

Dean looked deep into his own eyes. He saw things constantly, things that scared him. He saw Hell, literally. He saw the people he'd let down over the years, their disappointed looks still echoing on his irises. He saw deep inside himself, every screwed up thing about him his twisted insides becoming even more of an enigma every single goddamned day. The last thing he saw was what scared him the most. He saw his father. The deeper he looked he saw the man single handedly managed to be his father that raised him and the bane of his existence at the same time. He saw him striding towards him, he could imagine it now, and he saw the look of disgust on his face at what his son had become.

Dean backed away from the countertop and threw his hands up in the air. The vision of John was gone, but the chill still resided in his backbone. It shot through him once before it melted away. Dean immediately slammed off the lights in the bathroom and ran out. He didn't want to look at himself, not for one more moment. Titan lifted his head, staring at his master with minor concern, and stood up from the spot in which he lay. Dean; however, disregarded his four legged angelic friend and stomped out his bedroom door, closing it hard behind him. Titan lowered his head, wishing he could help in some way, but somehow knew it was pointless to try when Dean was in moods like this. So, he laid back down, tucking tail and whined once before closing his eyes again.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Castiel walked the streets of the town nearby, hoping to find some trace of the Scribe angel he'd been hunting, but as usual no such luck. Not since that horrid night in the forest. He could still hear their cries in his ears. It was almost haunting. He shivered something he hadn't done since he'd fallen, since he'd been human. It felt foreign, these human thoughts, these human emotions. Castiel wasn't sure if he was totally prepared for that, not again. The trench coated angel sighed and continued his trek down the long and busy sidewalk. People pushed past him without a second thought, as if he were simply ordinary, Castiel chuckled a bit at that thought. If only they knew they were knocking shoulders with an angel of the lord?

Suddenly Castiel sensed he too was doing just that, he turned his head to face the man that had just passed him. Younger looking fellow, with a leather jacket and jeans, he was wearing red vans tennis shoes and no smile on his face.

"Aznarath?" Castiel asked, hoping the other angel next to him would hear him over the sea of people and they wouldn't raise suspicion.

"Castiel," the angel turned to face him, his dark green eyes shone in the sunlight. They reminded Castiel of Dean's eyes. "Brother. Is it really you?"

Aznarath moved closer to Castiel, closing the gap between them so that they could talk more freely without arising too much confusion from the humans. Castiel nodded in response and Aznarath smiled a bit. Castiel had never known his friend to be much of a fighter and ultimately for once Castiel was grateful to see another angel that didn't want his head on a stake for what had happened to Heaven.

"It's a bit chilly out here," Aznarath rubbed his hands together to fight off the air. "What do you say we go somewhere else Castiel? Grab a drink?"

"I suppose yes," Castiel said and before he could say another word Aznarath had flown them to a nearby bar and grill. "Brother what are doing among all these people?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Aznarath lifted two fingers to the bartender who promptly smiled and nodded at him, bringing Castiel and him two freshly poured beers. "What are you doing amongst all these people Castiel?"

"Clearing my head," Castiel replied, it wasn't the entire truth, but it was part of it. "And you brother?"

"I happen to enjoy this," Aznarath said, sipping his beer, Castiel, not wanting to seem unworthy followed suit. "It's nice not being tethered to one thing. I'm sure none of the others would agree with me though."

"Probably not," Castiel never understood why Dean and Sam liked beer so much, besides the warmth that trickled down one's throat when consuming one, there wasn't much else to it. "I have been biding my time though, assisting the Winchesters."

"Ah the infamous Winchesters," Aznarath chuckled. "What's it like being bossed around by two rugged humans Castiel?"

Castiel cocked his head a bit, he'd never thought of Sam and Dean as rugged. Sam as a bit tortured but all in all a good person and a good friend to Castiel. Dean, wonderful soul, a bit of a drinking problem maybe, freckles, green eyes, weathered soldier. Dean.

"It's not any different than Heaven brother," Castiel replied, taking another small sip. "Just less Almighty manpower. I've found out many times I was wrong when I thought I was right and knew what was best. Most of all I think they taught me to question."

"Taught you to question," Aznarath asked suggestively. "Or taught you to feel?"

Castiel didn't glorify his remark with a response.

"Because most angels would consider that a bad thing," Aznarath paused a moment, the background noise from the bar flooding into their conversation, the glasses clacking, the drunken babbling, the jukebox playing old tunes nobody's heard in years. "I don't judge you, but then again you're not really Heaven's favorite for a number of reasons Castiel."

Castiel nodded, he understood what Aznarath was saying. At first in his millennia in Heaven and on earth before Dean's rescue, Castiel had passed through earth without an emotion attached. He'd never stopped to think or to feel; only the mission, only the missions mattered. He'd heard nothing but the beats of angel wings and Enochian chants and clicks like metal on metal, snare drums, in his head on angel radio. Now he felt remorse for the things he'd done in the past, he felt guilt for the one's he'd killed, left behind, and so on. He heard Sam's sarcastic and accusatory tones, he felt Dean's heartbeat in his own ears when the hunter was angry. He'd become what every angel had feared for years upon years. Aznarath was right. He'd become more human than he'd ever wanted to be. This among other reasons was why the angels wanted him gone, why they wanted him dead.

Castiel suddenly grimaced a bit, he'd been ignoring the constant pain all day until now, but it suddenly shot through him like a lightning bolt. He gritted his teeth and his fingers dug into his thighs. It passed as quickly as it had come on, but Castiel still felt waves of it radiating.

"I know what you did brother," Aznarath said. "And I know why."

"I don't want to talk about it." Castiel replied. That was the truth.

"I figured," Aznarath nodded. "You care about him. Some would say too much brother."

"That's not always a bad thing." Castiel said a bit spitefully, he'd heard this song and dance from everyone in Heaven. He was actually quite sick of it.

"It must hurt something awful," Aznarath said. "Knowing it probably won't happen."

Castiel sighed, he knew not responding would be worse than the truth.

Finally, Castiel said: "It only hurts when my eyes are open."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aznarath and Castiel sat in silence after that for quite awhile before they parted ways. Both exiting the bar after Aznarath paid the establishment. Aznarath strode right, off into the crowd, and Castiel left. Little did either of them know a pair of strikingly familiar eyes followed their every move? The eyes trailed back to Castiel eventually, their intended target. The source behind them chuckled.

"Soon Castiel," Metatron chuckled, watching the angel from his bench seat across the way, newspaper blocking him. "Soon."

**Reviews are always very much appreciated! There will be a bit more to the next chapter. A little bit more action and a beloved character makes an appearance! **

**More to come soon guys and I hope you're enjoying this so far!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

It was way past midnight and still, Titan ran. He panted and sprinted as fast as his four legs would carry him. He jumped over trees as he bounded out of the nearby woods and onto the main dirt road. The headlights of a truck barreled down the nearly deserted road and they landed on Titan. He froze a moment, his eyes flaring up white and then jumped into the brush nearby, taking off once again. The truck driver slammed on his brakes for a moment, contemplating what they just saw: wolf, fox, or something they just couldn't explain? Then the truck driver moved on, slower than before.

The Angelhound could feel his heart beating fast. In Heaven he could cover twice as much ground as on earth, but he didn't mind. Titan had enjoyed his time on earth with the Winchester brothers. They'd shown him such kindness and lots of belly rubs and ear scratches so the hound ultimately felt satisfied with his choice to permanently leave his former master, Balthazar, and stay with Dean. It had been hard on the hound after his master had been killed, by none other than Castiel, in fact Titan had found it hard to trust Castiel for the longest time until Castiel proved to him he was no threat.

Titan zoomed as fast as light as he drew closer to his desired location. He then suddenly stopped and sniffed the air before his eyes lit up white once again and a small box with everything he needed appeared in front of him. There was just one ingredient missing. Titan took off again, faster than light this time and returned, trying hard not to taste the plant in between his jaws. Hemlock, Titan quickly dropped it into the box. Not that he was susceptible to any poisons on earth, but he never took a chance. Titan picked the wooden box up in between his teeth after shutting the top of it and trotted over to the middle of the crossroads. He buried it and waited for a moment.

"Well hello there love," Titan's head spun around to find Crowley standing there. Crowley looked down beneath him. "No devils' trap huh? That's ballsy of you?"

"_You won't try to escape," _Titan said to him through his mind, he stepped closer. "_Not when the Winchesters are so high up on your priority list."_

Crowley paused a moment.

"Well," he said. "You've got me there."

_"What have you done to Dean?" _Titan asked.

"Oh Dean," Crowley smirked playfully a bit, staring down the hound. "He did that all to himself mutt."

_"Lies," _Titan exclaimed and growled, snapping his jaw and baring his teeth for emphasis. "_What have you done to my master?"_

"I told you, you bloody mutt, Squirrel did this to himself," Crowley explained again. "I simply provided him with new life."

Crowley suddenly found that he was down on the ground. He had an angry, growling Angelhound looming over him and he was quite close to said Angelhound's giant fangs. Crowley knew better than to piss off angels, but Angelhounds were a different story. At least an angel you could outsmart and they weren't packing industrial sized and strength teeth. Titan shifted into his human form and grabbed Crowley by the collar, lifting him up so they were face to face, inches from each other.

"Well then if you won't tell me what you did to Dean," Titan glared and bared his teeth once again, even though they were human teeth as of that moment. "Then at least tell me how to fix him."

"Sorry no can do," Crowley shrugged, seemingly innocently. "I'm afraid that job is already spoken for."

"What do you mean?" Titan asked, worried a bit, he backed up and let Crowley's collar go. The King of Hell brushed himself off and straightened his tie.

"Well mutt," Crowley turned his head slightly; there was a glimmer of deceit in his eyes. "Let's just say between you and me, that Squirrel has quite the guardian angel."

Crowley disappeared before Titan's eyes and the Angelhound was taken aback. What had Crowley meant by what he said? Had Castiel done something to help Dean? Had another angel? Titan shifted back into his hound form and grunted before turning tail and running back in the direction of the bunker. He and Dean had much to discuss when his master awoke.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Dean awoke the next morning to a grimy taste in his mouth and a slight headache. He'd pounded a few beers and even some whiskey the night before after his little session with the bathroom mirror. He hated when his mind worked that way. Self loathing seemed to be all he knew nowadays and all of his life for that matter.

He was also awoken by the sound of his brother walking down the hallway towards his open door. Damn it, had he forgotten to close the door the night before? Dean rubbed his aching temples, trying to ignore everything else. Trying, until he felt a bottle of Aspirin hit the bed in front of him and Sam looking over at him.

"Rough night," Sam asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. "Huh? So what chick flaked on yah at what bar this time?"

"I stayed in." Dean graciously dry swallowed two Aspirin and pinched his nose. His head pounded every time he moved.

"I'm not gonna ask," Sam said. "Anyway, Cas is in the living room waiting to talk to the both of us. Jody called me earlier today and requested our help with something. So once you're ready to be coherent meet us out there and we'll make a game plan."

Sam walked away and Dean groaned quietly. He hated migraines, he hated it when Sam talked to him like he was a helpless child, and also he hated not knowing why anything was happening to him lately. Dean stood and stomped over to the bathroom, rubbing his tired eyes before turning on the light and washing off his face with cold water. His eyes met the mirror and he squinted before lifting one open wider with his finger and thumb.

The bloodlust, it was fading and fading rapidly at that.

Dean had no explanation and that was scaring him ever so slightly. He didn't know what could've possibly caused his healing or who for that matter. Dean shook away his thoughts, not wanting to go there right in that moment and picked out his clothes for the day. Slipping on his black faded ACDC t-shirt and some worn blue jeans, Dean walked out of his room and to his awaiting companions.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Dean found Castiel seated in the same armchair he'd been in the night they'd watched Dr Sexy together. Sam was standing, leaned up against a barstool, a cup of coffee between his lips. Dean poured himself a cup and gingerly sipped it down. His stomach still churned, he knew it would until the pill kicked in.

"Metatron is definitely nearby," Castiel spoke up after silence filled the room for too long. "I have narrowed down a possible location."

"Well don't just sit there Cas," Dean chugged his coffee and wiped his lips. "Tell us."

"There is an abandoned warehouse nearby," Castiel explained. "His grace is there in traces, showing that he has been visiting it. I believe if I can catch him at the right time there, I can ambush him and return him to his rightful prison."

"Sounds good Cas," Sam nodded, he turned to Dean. "Jody told me of a potential werewolf case near her place. She was wondering if you were in or not."

"Uh," Dean weighed his options, go with Sam and be interrogated again, by both his brother and probably Jody or stay with Castiel and not be judged or asked questions he didn't feel like answering. "Actually Sam, I think I'm gonna stay here…with Cas."

Castiel was taken aback. It wasn't the first time that Dean had gone with him on a hunt or a case or anything else for that matter, but it was the first time Dean had vocalized it was what he wanted to do. Sam's eyebrows lifted a moment and he rubbed the back of his neck for a moment.

"Oh," Sam replied. "Well ok Dean. I mean, yeah that's…good. I'll tell Jody it's just gonna be me then."

Sam walked off to call their police officer friend leaving Dean with Castiel. Dean looked over at his old friend with heavy eyes. Castiel sighed; his pain had doubled since the week before and he trying harder and harder to hide it. Eventually he knew he couldn't, but for now what Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"Tell me when you are ready Dean," Castiel said, his fingers covering his eyes and rubbing at them. "I'll fly us to the warehouse after Sam leaves. I…need a moment."

Dean gave Castiel a confused look, but he nodded. He observed how tense Castiel's shoulders were. The angel was clearly in some kind of pain. Dean considered asking his friend what was wrong, but he anticipated the answer already. The same one Castiel had been giving him for the past weeks: "I'm fine Dean." So he didn't.

Moments later Sam had a packed back slung over his left shoulder and he was walking towards the door of the bunker. He waved at the pair and walked out the door without a second glance. Castiel stood from his chair and strode over to Dean. Dean barely had time to register what was happening before Castiel zapped them to the front door of the warehouse. He had somehow zapped boots onto Dean's feet and a gun into his belt.

"I sensed Metatron's grace here multiple times," Castiel explained, lowering his voice a bit. Dean checked himself over and stepped forward. "I want to catch him by surprise if at all possible."

"Makes sense," Dean replied. "So how do you reckon we get inside Cas?"

"I was thinking the front door would suffice," Castiel pointed in the direction of the slightly ajar door that seemed stuck halfway. "Unless you have a better plan?"

"Well geez Cas," Dean smirked a tiny bit as he followed the angel to the entrance. "Who taught you sarcasm?"

"You." Castiel replied as he tried to work open the door. The old metal door groaned a bit, but refused to budge. Castiel let out a frustrated sigh. Dean walked up next to him.

"Here," Dean offered. "Let's try together."

Dean pushed too at the same time as Castiel. The door opened enough for one of them to try to sneak through; unfortunately they both tried at the same time and ended up very stuck. Dean's knee was wedged somewhere near Castiel's crotch and Castiel was pinned to the wall. Dean grunted and tried to shift forward. Castiel did the same thing at the same time though and prevented either one of them from moving once again. Dean looked down and saw nothing, but blue eyes inches from his.

"Cas," Dean grunted and shifted again. "We were never good at the whole personal space thing weren't we?"

"Now is hardly the time Dean," Castiel moved his arms up so he wasn't quite so pinned. "On three. We push."

"Good. Cuz in reality," Dean's breath ghosted in the space between them as he looked at the angel before him, Castiel's too. "You're kinda crushing my ribs Cas."

"Whose fault is that Dean," Castiel said, accusatory. "You're the one who insisted we could both fit through this thing."

"That," Dean let out a breath he'd been holding rather harshly and struggled again for a few moments. "Was before we got stuck."

"On three." Castiel counted and the pair managed to painfully dislodged themselves from the doorway. They tumbled onto the concrete floor and each let out a groan. Castiel got up first, followed by the hunter. Dean looked around, rubbing at his wrist and his neck. This place seemed pretty abandoned, but he also knew Castiel and when Castiel had a lead, he didn't stop until he followed it.

"At least this warehouse," Castiel said, looking around as well. "Isn't guarded by insatiable intimidating prime numbers."

"What?" Dean gave Castiel a "what the hell" look.

"You weren't there that's right," Castiel walked forward, Dean quickly followed after him. "That was Sam."

"I," Dean was about to ask, but decided against it. "Never mind…"

Castiel and Dean carefully and quietly walked on through the halls of the warehouse. It creaked and groaned with age and every time Castiel jumped a bit. Dean looked around him in anticipation of some monster lurking in the darkness, but no ugly creatures jumped out to "greet" them. They finally reached a central area where there were a few doors leading to adjacent dark hallways and water dripped from the holes in the ceiling. Castiel stepped out into the center, looking all around him. Dean watched and waited.

"_Face it Castiel," _Metatron's voice echoed through Castiel's head and his only. "_You think you're going to win, but you're wrong."_

Castiel shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and silently praying that Dean wouldn't ask questions.

"_I've got plans for you Castiel," _Metatron said, Castiel could almost see him smirking. "_And that precious boy toy of yours too. It's about time he learned the truth isn't it Castiel? The truth about what you did."_

"Shut up." Castiel muttered.

"What'd you say Cas?" Dean asked.

"Oh," Castiel looked over. "N-Nothing Dean."

He knew Dean didn't believe him, but the hunter didn't pry. Castiel continued to wait, searching for the source of the voice even though he knew it wasn't there at the warehouse.

"_Just you wait Castiel," _Metatron practically yelled and laughed in Castiel's head, Castiel, not thinking, held his ears and dropped his blade. "_Just you wait now! I'll give you both what you deserve! Won't that be fun Castiel? Won't that be fun?!"_

"Shut up!" Castiel practically screamed. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

Metatron's voice slowly faded and it was replaced by Dean's. Dean was staring down at the angel, who now leaned up on the wall on the dingy floor. Castiel shakily removed his hands from his ears and looked up at Dean, blue eyes meeting concerned green ones. Dean was shaking his shoulder lightly and trying to get him to stand up. Castiel slowly obliged, he felt the pain shoot up his back again, but he ignored it and focused on Dean.

"You ok man," Dean asked. "We need to get out of here. You're shaking Cas."

"Yes," Castiel nodded, gaining coherence. "We do Dean. Let's go."

Castiel led the way, followed by Dean once again who was acting like a bit of a concerned mother hen over the angel. The opposite of what Castiel wanted. He shrugged it off though and mostly ignored Dean. Not on purpose, but Metatron's words rang in his head. They wouldn't go away either.

"_I've got plans for you Castiel and that precious boy toy of yours too."_

_ "It's about time he learned the truth isn't it Castiel?"_

"_The truth about what you did."_

"_The truth about what you did…"_

Castiel kept walking and ignoring. He feared he'd fall apart right there if he did.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sam blinked as he stared down the road. It was a long ride to Jody's house and he had planned to get there before midnight that night. Damn he was tired though. The radio hadn't been the best companion. He'd prefer a real person to the radio any day.

_"I never meant to be so bad to you, one thing I said that I would never do."_

Sam's attention suddenly returned.

"_One look from you and I'd fall from grace, enough to wipe that smile right from your face."_

Sam tried to change the station, but it wouldn't go. He began to panic a little. That song, anything but THAT song. Sam looked back up and saw a familiar golden eyed face standing in the middle of the deserted road, except for him. Sam gasped and hit the brakes before swerving off the road. He looked back and saw nothing, he panted and pushed his hair away from his now sweat laden forehead and re-opened his eyes moments later. Only to nearly jump out of his skin at who he saw.

"He yah Sammy boy." Gabriel said from the passenger seat.

**Reviews are always appreciated! I hope you guys enjoyed who was brought into this chapter. And who was potentially brought back, or was he? Stay tuned for the next installment to find out the answers to all of your questions. **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I am so sorry guys, it's been awhile. Life has been busy and it'll only get busier. So without further ado, I present Chapter 11.**

Chapter 11

"Jesus Christ!" Sam cried out, still holding his heart and trying to slow his rapid breathing.

"Nope I'm just Gabriel," Gabriel chuckled. "Jesus though, he was Hell of a guy."

Sam breathed through the panic and looked over at his passenger seat companion and glared at him.

"Woah there killer," Gabriel held up his hands. "Ease up. I come in peace."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

"Well Sammy," Gabriel explained. "When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…"

"Not what I mean Gabriel," Sam replied sharply. "I mean what are you doing here? I thought you were dead?"

"How do you know I'm not kiddo," Gabriel asked, adding even more confusion to Sam's brain, but he figured it was best not to question it. "Besides spending time in Elysium Fields, throwing assholes into black holes again, my specialty by the way, anyway can't I pay my favorite Cro-Magnon human a "hello how yah been" visit?"

"Honestly," Sam said, still a bit annoyed from almost being run off the road. "I was expecting more confetti."

"Too clichéd," Gabriel chuckled and kicked his feet up on the Impala's dashboard, Sam knowing full well if Dean were there Gabriel's ass would be deep fried by now. "How yah been Sam?"

"I was doing fine," Sam replied, starting to turn the Impala back onto the road. "Until an undead archangel appeared as my co-pilot, an archangel with a hidden agenda usually at that, what's your angle Gabriel? Why are you really here and what do you really want?"

Gabriel sighed and put his feet down. His face went emotionless for a moment before a new emotion; new on him at least, appeared. Fear, Sam had seen his fear when he and Dean had first discovered who and what Gabriel really was, but this was a different kind of fear. One Sam determined didn't look well on anyone.

"It's about my brother." Gabriel said stone cold serious.

"Cas?" Sam asked. He was suddenly interested.

"Castiel did something," Gabriel explained. "I can't tell what, but he did something and now he's hurting."

"Hurting," Sam said. "You mean like in physical pain?"

"Maybe," Gabriel shrugged. "It was hard to tell. All I know is it was as if something in him was dying away, as if he was losing a part of himself. I dunno, it could be nothing, but…can I ask a favor of you Sam?"

Sam was leery, he had to say that much. Gabriel had never been high on his list of trustworthy people, but then again Sam didn't have a huge list and most of the people on it were either dead, Castiel, or his brother, so at the moment he didn't have much choice. As much as he hated the thought of making a deal with a trickster, he could tell something was jarring Gabriel and even though he only knew the archangel as a general asshole, Sam knew he still wasn't himself. Sam sighed and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He contemplated this and decided finally what did he have to lose? Besides, if Castiel was involved, it couldn't be a trick.

"Yeah," Sam nodded and listened as he kept his eyes on the road. "You can."

"Keep an eye on my baby brother," Gabriel said, more serious than Sam had ever heard him sound. "For me and for Dean? He's basically attached at the hip to your brother. So please?"

"Alright," Sam said without hesitation. "Consider it done when I get back from this hunt. Dean's with him now."

"Thank you," this was foreign, Sam had never known the archangel to be grateful. "Oh and Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam asked he was scared to know what else Gabriel wanted.

"Take care of yourself too." Gabriel said before a flap of wings was heard and the archangel was gone. He left no remnants of him ever being there except for the sweet candy scent that seemed to be unique to him. It had lingered in Sam's nostrils and followed him throughout his time in TV land and those eternal Tuesdays. Sam sighed, shaking off what had just happened, and kept driving forward. He was close to Jody's and the hunt couldn't wait a day more.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Dean sat in the bunker living room and pondered his and Castiel's next move. Something had happened back at the warehouse and Dean wasn't quite sure what. Castiel had heard something that fell deaf on Dean's ears. His friend had been yelling at someone unseen to "shut up", but Dean had never once seen the person responsible for Castiel's outburst. The angel was currently lying down in the one of the many bedrooms at the bunker, supposedly sleeping, which Dean found odd in itself since Castiel had once told him years ago that angels in fact did not need sleep.

Dean on the other hand was sleeping with ghosts.

Not literal ones of course, but the ghosts of the past. The things he'd done when the bloodlust had been hot and heavy and Dean had been ready to kill at a moment's notice. He felt no need now and that scared him. How something so strong, so deep rooted and powerful, could suddenly disappear from him? That, he couldn't understand. Meanwhile, the hunter was plagued with images of the woman he'd killed that had made the news, the child that had cried in the night because of his eyes, the man he'd bludgeoned to death in the alleyway.

The thoughts of it all made him sick. So he sat in a chair next to the couch in the bunker's living room, trying to think of anything, but that. His gut churned like a humbling river, flowing upstream, up his throat and wanting to come out in the form of a blood curdling scream. He hadn't thought of any other way to let it out. He heard a door creak and Castiel appeared, wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt of Sam's that the younger hunter had lent him. Dean watched him walk; he seemed to walk with a slight limp. He was in pain, Dean could tell. From what, Dean couldn't say.

"Hey Cas," Dean cleared his throat and turned to face the angel. "You any better?"

"I'll manage," Castiel sat down near him in the other armchair. "We have to go back, Metatron was there. I could feel it."

"Ok Geronimo," Dean replied. "Why don't you sit this one out for awhile? I mean you're already limping and you could barely function in that damn warehouse."

"Shut up," Castiel snapped, which shocked Dean. Castiel had never told him to shut up. Dean didn't know how to respond. "I am so close to that…imbecile. I can sense it. If I give up now, I—"

"Ok," Dean said defensively. "Ok, I didn't mean…you know what never mind. I'm sorry. I just figured…"

"Dean," Castiel sighed. "It's fine. It is I who should be saying sorry."

"Cas…"

"No," Castiel explained. "It's just…he took everything from us. He took our home, our powers, and our lives. The only thing the angels have ever known has been torn from us and it's my fault, all of it is. I trusted the wrong person. Now I just want to make things right and I'm so close Dean I can feel it. I need to find him, you just…you wouldn't understand."

"You remember when Sam went to Hell?" Dean abruptly asked.

"Yes." Castiel said.

"And how I wanted to do everything in my power to bring him back?" Dean continued.

"What is your point Dean?" Castiel replied with a sigh.

"I know how it feels," Dean replied. "How you feel. You want to do what's right. Man I admire that so much Cas, but you're running on empty here. You're in pain I can see it and since you won't tell me why I have to assume it's just some angelic shit because you were fighting some holier than thou supernatural force or some mumbo jumbo like that. Anyway man I know how you feel, but Cas like I said I need you and I need you to not go out there and kill yourself trying to find Metatron ok?"

Castiel didn't reply. He looked over at Dean though.

"Please Cas," Dean said. "I will help you find him, but please don't do this anymore today ok?"

"Ok Dean." Castiel replied rather flippantly, but Dean could tell he meant what he said.

"Good." Dean said, leaning back and tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"Nervous energy," Castiel spoke up after a bout of silence. "Is my brother's plaything."

Dean stopped.

"Just thinking…" Dean said.

"About?"

"About the last few months." Dean replied.

"I see."

"Look Cas not for nothing but," Dean replied. "I'm having a hard time fathoming it myself so I really don't think I should talk about it for awhile. If that's ok with you?"

"I never said we had to Dean." Castiel said, holding his hands up slightly.

"I don't even know where to begin." Dean sighed.

"Distracting yourself," Castiel said. "Would prove most helpful."

"Pray tell?" Dean asked.

"I suggest you read," Castiel stood from the chair. "You don't do that often enough. I'd recommend _The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy_. I do believe you'd relate with the characters quite well."

Castiel stood and walked towards the room that had been dubbed as his for the time being.

"Since when did you become all scholarly Cas," Dean chuckled. "And no offense but the day I pick up a book is the day the world actually ends."

"No time like the present." Castiel gave a soft smile and walked into his room, leaving Dean alone. Dean chuckled to himself as his eyes landed on the bookcase nearby. He immediately shook his head no and clicked the remote for the television. The game was on and it was so rare that Dean got to actually catch it. Although, Dr. Sexy was having a marathon…

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Sorry guys, to be honest this was kind of a filler chapter. I wanted ya'll to know I was alive, but at the same time it's late and I don't have the energy for the full thing. The next chapter though will be a bit longer, I promise. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I'm back, college is hard; amazingly I have some free time right now. I'll spare you the mumbo jumbo. On to the story!**

Chapter 12

Sam and Jody Mills tramped through the woods near the vampire's nest. They'd spent the entirety of the day, playing dress up (well, Sam did) and talking to local witnesses, gathering the necessary supplies and weapons, and tracking down what they later found out to be the vampire's nest. It was an old abandoned house in the middle of the woods thank God or else Jody might have had to call it in to the force and it wouldn't have been the easiest thing in the world to explain why an officer of the law was "ganking" people as Dean would've put it.

Sam, weapon in hand, lifted up the low lying branch so it wouldn't hit Jody in the face as they walked. Jody smiled appreciatively and continued down the path they'd made to the nest.

"No jokes intended here Sam," Jody finally broke the silence, as she spoke quietly and moved soft-footed through the woods. "But your head's been up in the clouds since you arrived here. What's going on?"

Sam thought about what had happened. What Gabriel had told him, how he was supposed to trust the word of a supposedly dead archangel. Not to mention Sam had tried his hardest to ignore what had been going on at home. Castiel was in pain, Dean was trying to pick through every memory and determine what was him or not, Sam, well he was just muddling through. All that mattered in that moment was the hunt.

"Nothing Jody," Sam hated lying to her. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," Jody said, rather forcefully at that, she stopped and turned to Sam so he was forced to speak to her. "Sam if this is about your brother…"

"It's not about Dean ok," Sam snapped. Jody stared at him a moment, giving him the look like a mother would, determining if her child was lying or not. "It's not…just about Dean."

"I knew it," Jody said. "Sam if there's something you need to talk about…"

Need to talk about, sure there were a lot of things Sam needed to talk about. His brother being one of them. But right now he couldn't even formulate his own thoughts about what he'd wanted to say to Dean for months now, how could he even begin to explain anything to Jody that she didn't already know?

"There's nothing," Sam replied. "Not right now. Right now this hunt is all that matters. So let's just get in there and get it done ok?"

Sam pushed past her, not in a rude way, and Jody watched as he trudged further up the path. Jody could sense something was up with the boy. Sam wasn't telling her something, but what else was new. The brothers rarely let Jody in on their personal problems. That had been Bobby's role when he was alive. She had never once pried, nor pressured, either brother to open up to her, but nowadays after all the boys and she had been through she almost considered it a necessity. She sighed though and decided that Sam would talk when he was ready and only then. She walked after him, her boots sinking into the moist mud underneath.

The sound of an old time record playing blasting Creedance Clearwater Revival's _Bad Moon Rising_ was heard permeating through the air as they neared the house. Sam and Jody both chuckled at the appropriate choice in song and crouched down in the bushes, observing the scene. Sam's eyes played back and forth between the two upstairs windows laden with dust, cobwebs, and broken glass. Two young male vampires stalked back and forth, constantly looking out the windows and down into the yard below. Jody's eyes were set on the man in the bottom window who was laughing at something she assumed another vampire had said to him. The windows were specially tinted, probably done by a vampire with the knowledge, to prevent total sunlight from pouring in, but Sam and Jody could still see in.

"He's the Alpha," Jody whispered to Sam and pointed to the biggest man in the window. "I'm sure of it."

"Let's get him then," Sam motioned for Jody to follow him around the perimeter of the house, hoping they wouldn't arouse too much suspicion from the vampires. Sam and Jody both carried blades for beheading. "You go around back; I'll head through the side door. Take out as many as you can, as quietly as you can."

"Not my first rodeo Winchester." Jody smirked and quietly moved around back. Slipping through the door unnoticed. Once Sam knew she was inside he quickly made his move and slipped through the side door, following suit. He heard the unmistakable sound of vampires heads being cut off and rolling across the floor. Luckily the Alpha hadn't noticed yet, or maybe he had? Sam didn't want to waste time deciding the answer to that one. He signaled for Jody to stay hidden and made his move once again.

"Hey jerks," Sam spoke up and the Alpha vampire turned its head to see who'd spoken to it. The other lackeys around him did as well. Dean had always been the one on the hunts to come up with the quirky openers, Sam was glad he'd finally gotten the chance. He smirked. "Who wants stake for dinner?"

The vampires rushed at him and he had his blade raised high. Sam began advancing towards the incoming vampires. One by one he sliced off their heads and they rolled. Some towards the windows, some behind Sam, and some at the Alpha's feet. Sam looked at the Alpha, holding tight to his blade, waiting for him to strike.

"Not so big and bad without your posse huh?" Sam asked.

"Foolish hunter," the Alpha laughed. "You really think I can't take you down alone? Why I could kill you and others like you in my sleep!"

"Oh really now," Sam asked. "Others like me too?"

Sam and the Alpha both watched each other's every move.

"Really," the Alpha snickered and stepped a bit closer. "I am one of the strongest of my kind. You really think a human can kill me?"

"No," Sam replied. "I don't. But two can."

The Alpha spun around just in time to see Jody bringing a blade down on his neck, slicing his head from his body. It fell to the wood floor with a sickening sound and Jody kicked the other half of the body away. Sam looked around them, dead vampires lay everywhere. A rare occurrence in such a short period of time.

"Now that," Jody said. "Is what we call a successful hunt?"

Sam nodded and laughed along with the police detective. Jody kicked a vampire's head that had managed to land near her foot.

"But seriously though," Jody added. "Work on your bedside manner with monsters, that one liner was horrible. Besides that's not even how you kill a vampire."

"Hey," Sam exclaimed. "It's not my fault. Dean's the witty one."

"He'd be happy to hear you admit that out loud," Jody looked around too. "Now c'mon let's get out of here. I plan on torching this place and I don't need evidence pegged against me."

"A police detective torching a house full of murdered vampires," Sam said. "Aren't you breaking all kinds of laws here?"

"Oh be quiet," Jody pulled matches out of her pocket and lit one, letting it drop to the floor and igniting the wood. "What the force doesn't know won't hurt them. Now c'mon quick."

Jody and Sam exited the building right before it started to go up in flames. Jody pulled out her personal cell phone and placed a 911 call.

"Yes I'm reporting a fire," Jody gave the details. "Just thought I'd let you all know. Alright thanks, bye."

Sam chuckled when Jody hung up and the pair, smiling, began the long walk back towards their car and Jody's house.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Castiel walked out of his room, rubbed his eyes, and yawned. He had been taking too many naps in his opinion, since what he'd done, but he couldn't help it. He was just so tired. He looked around; the bunker seemed abnormally quiet for the evening. Castiel half expected to hear the clicking of Titan's claws even, on the tile, but not a sound was heard. Not until he turned his head to see Dean, moving in the kitchen.

"Dean…" Castiel started moving towards him.

Dean didn't respond. He kept shifting dishes around and running the water in the sink. Castiel cocked his head.

"Dean…" Castiel said again, this time louder.

"He can't hear you," Metatron's voice was heard and Castiel spun his head around him. The room started to fade around him and Castiel ended up in the warehouse him and Dean and found earlier. Castiel turned behind him and saw Metatron standing and smirking. "That one's not real."

"What do you want Metatron?" Castiel's fingers ran over his blade, preparing to strike if need be.

"What do you think Castiel," Metatron replied. "What I've wanted since day one of your fall from Heaven, your ass on a golden platter, you and those Winchester boys."

"No way on earth." Castiel glared.

"Precisely," Metatron mumbled, but then spoke up. "Anyway, those are my terms. That's what I want and I suppose since I'm your new God you're going to give it to me."

"I repeat," Castiel stepped closer, gripping the blade tight, but not pulling it out yet. "No way on earth."

"Fine," Metatron said rather calmly. "Castiel you've tested me since I first met you. You have twenty four hours."

Metatron then disappeared before Castiel could say another word, leaving him confused and wondering what Metatron had meant.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"You want your steak rare or not?" Jody called to Sam from the kitchen. He sat at the dining room table perusing various books of Jody's on lore. Alex, Jody's more recent adopted daughter from a vampire hunt, sat on the couch, reading a fiction novel.

"Medium rare Jody," Sam called out. "How's that book Alex?"

"Good…" Alex mumbled.

"Sorry," Jody came out of the kitchen smiling. "Alex has yet to learn social skills when she's got her nose buried in a book."

Jody leaned over Alex and got in her light.

"Alex we have a guest." Jody said and Alex looked up at her and rolled her eyes.

"God mom," Alex had taken to calling her mom ever since she'd practically taken her in as her own. "You're in my light."

"She's fine Jody," Sam smiled over at Alex and Alex smiled back. "I know what it's like to be into a book."

"Well," Jody said. "I highly doubt you and Alex have the same taste in literature and what mom says goes. Put the book down, come sit at the table and eat with us."

Alex rolled her eyes again and moved from the couch to the table. Sam chuckled and went back to his books.

"He gets to read." Alex whined.

"He's the guest," Jody warned her and set down the plates of steak. "I'm not in charge of him."

Sam chuckled again, but was interrupted by his phone. He looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Dean.

"Hey Dean," Sam answered. "What is it?"

"_Oh nothing," _Dean replied. "_Just thought I'd let you know it's a real funky town here in Kansas, you should be here Sammy."_

"Dean…" Sam said, getting up from the table, panicking a bit.

"_Trust me Sammy," _Dean said again. "_You just gotta get here by tomorrow man, real funky town."_

Then, he hung up. Sam looked at his phone and locked it, before turning to Jody.

"What's wrong Sam?" Jody asked.

"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I'm sorry to rush out, but I gotta go."

"Sam," Jody grabbed his arm. "What is it?"

"It's Dean," Sam said. "He's in trouble."

Sam ran out the door without looking back once.

**Reviews are appreciated! The real fun chapters are coming up soon. I've been waiting for these.**

**More to come soon my lovely readers.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: I'm back! Again, I'm working on multiple projects right now (all fanfiction) and college work. It's tedious, but worth it! I am trying to get this story done before October 7****th**** I don't know if I'll make the deadline or not, but if for any reason I don't consider it an AU for you guys to go to in case Season 10 sucks, I've heard mixed reviews based on what people have already seen. I'm also treating this story as if Season 10 is the last season of Supernatural so if ends a way you didn't expect it to that's why. Now, here's the next chapter!**

Chapter 13

Dean awoke from a particularly bad dream. This one was bloody; it was filled with violent deaths. Deaths that Dean had caused, blood that had spilled on his hands; he still felt the First Blade in his hands some nights. Some nights the urge was stronger than others, it was slowly fading. Whatever had been done to cure him, it was working in every aspect except in his head. Then again, Dean didn't ever expect miracles. He had awoken in a sweat and with a start.

"_Castiel has been gone some time," _Titan nudged the hunter's hand to rouse him. Dean grunted, rubbed his tired eyes, and looked over at his furry companion. "_He has returned though, he requests your presence Dean."_

"I'm up," Dean groaned. "Tell him I'm up."

"Hello Dean." Castiel simply said, entering the room in typical Castiel fashion.

"Hey there Cas," Dean rubbed his fingers down his face. "What's up?"

"I," Castiel paused, and then a look of true concern rushed over his face, Dean's expression changed as well. "I met with Metatron…"

"You what," Dean exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me Cas, I would've gone with you?!"

"He caught me by surprise Dean," Castiel quickly started to explain. "He made a fake reality and transported me back to the warehouse. He tried to talk to me, tried to get me to surrender. I refused. He said I had twenty four hours…I don't know that means."

Dean sat up now, his full attention on the distraught angel. Titan slinked away, sensing his master's distress. Castiel's eyes met Dean's and they were filled with angst, worry, and above all: pain. Castiel was in pain. He wouldn't tell Dean why either. He had been walking with a slight limp ever since the warehouse. Dean figured he thought he hadn't noticed, but he did.

"Screw that," Dean said, catching the angel a bit by surprise. "He's not going to get away with that. You've supposedly got 'til tomorrow morning right? Or so the "overlord" says. He wins if we're just sitting here, biding our time, we need to go somewhere, do something."

Dean got up from the bed and Castiel turned his head away, as if he were looking at something he shouldn't. Dean pulled on his jacket and shrugged the collar up. He turned to Castiel.

"Let's go get a burger and talk about our next move," Dean said. "I'm starving."

Dean really only wanted an excuse though, an excuse not to sleep even though he was so tired. Excuses not to be alone with his thoughts for even a mere second; his thoughts were scaring him nowadays. He walked out of the room just as Castiel up from the edge of the bed.

"_I'm surprised he hasn't done something far more extreme by now," _Titan piped up, Dean could no longer hear him. "_I know what you've done Castiel…"_

"You are not to tell him," Castiel stared at Titan with the wrath of Heaven in his eyes. "Or I'll have to eliminate your ability to speak."

Titan whined, but maintained his position. He didn't slink away, but merely bowed his head to Castiel in a submissive manner. Castiel turned to leave, feeling the hound's golden eyes on him.

"_He'll figure it out," _Titan stood and his eyes flashed white. "_And when He does all Hell will rain down upon you."_

Titan disappeared when Castiel turned around again to speak back. Castiel sighed. He knew Titan hadn't been speaking of Dean. Castiel honestly, at this point, didn't care what his Father had to do with any of this. He figured that he had failed his Father so many times in the past, what harm was one more time? Castiel finally sighed before shutting the door behind him, an echo protruding through the empty room.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Heaven was in frenzy. It hadn't been calm since Metatron's escape. Various angels had taken over the job of Guards. The guarded the prison cells and the borders of Heaven to make sure there was no way anyone else could get out without permission and if Metatron got back in somehow, that he'd stay back in. The Distinguished Angel Council had been hard at work surveying potential flaws in the system that had allowed Metatron to escape. They were in charge of all things angelic crime and punishment.

"Perhaps we have a traitor in our midst," Donathan, leader of the Council exclaimed, he was quite the extremist. He had taken the position by force and by no one's choice or vote. Everyone wanted him out, but no one had the guts to put him in his place without fear of retaliation. "I mean who wouldn't have the brains to know that if you give a Scribe paper bad things will happen?"

"It merely depends on how they choose to use it Donathan," Ezra piped up, his meek and shy voice echoing through the Council hall. "I mean—"

"I know that," Donathan bellowed, he earned his authority by yelling and force as well. "I'm not stupid."

"I wasn't implying that you were I just…" Ezra swallowed hard.

"Shut up." Donathan snipped.

"Come off it Donathan," Cathalsis, an angel with short brown hair and paler skin said. He was known for his dabbling in medicine, but he preferred his position of power most days. "I swear, does being utterly unproductive and accepting no ideas but your own get you off?"

"Did I ask for your opinion?" Donathan glared at Cathalsis, who stared back with the same fervor.

Anorath, another angel with black hair a bit longer than Cathalsis' and mousy eyes, rolled his eyes from his seat and leaned over to Camael, a more recently added angel to the Council; he chuckled.

"Maybe if Donathan would pull the stick out of his ass the meetings wouldn't go like this," Anorath joked. Camael, who had almost white blonde hair and piercing green eyes, chuckled as well. "I swear if Lucifer was still Council leader we'd at least get some things done."

"He's too proud," Camael commented. "We've always known that."

Donathan paused; he turned to the center of the room where there stood an orb of sorts. It showed him the earth or more specifically anyone he wanted it to. Certain angels, who knew of how the Council operated, could work their way around it, but most of them were clueless. Donathan looked deep into the yellowish gold flame.

"_He'll figure it out, and when He does all Hell will rain down upon you."_

_ "You are not to tell him or I'll eliminate your ability to speak."_

"What do we have here," Donathan asked with a hint of deviousness in his voice. "The great Castiel has done something Council worthy again. This is most interesting."

"He is not our focus Donathan," Ezra shyly spoke up again. "We should focus on Metatron, on the matter at hand."

"Didn't I tell you to shut up," Donathan turned to face him and Ezra immediately obeyed. "This, this is most interesting. This is most an almost delicious turn of events. Castiel is a direct link to Metatron. The two are warring with one another as we speak. We simply have to wait until they're face to face and then make our move."

"And what," Cathalsis said rather unenthusiastically. "Pray tell, is that?"

Donathan whistled and two Angelhounds popped up in the room. One, a Dalmatian, the other a snarling Rottweiler; both of them looked equally as ferocious though. Both hounds' eyes flashed white before they sat, ready to obey their master.

"Atlas," Donathan looked to the Rottweiler, and then he looked to the Dalmatian. "Harley. I have a job for you two…"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

A tension filled day turned into a sleepless night and then to another tension filled day for Dean and Castiel. Castiel already didn't sleep so he'd stayed up all night waiting in anticipation for what Metatron had planned. Dean didn't sleep at all either, his nightmares plaguing him along with what the Scribe turned God plans were for Castiel. The sun peaked through the window in Dean's room and woke him up from a restless slumber. He got up, shrugged on his jacket, and grabbed his knife like it was all methodic. Titan pushed his nose into Dean's leg and nudged him. Dean looked down at the hound whose features showed worry.

"I'll be fine Titan," Dean scratched in between the hound's ears. "So will Cas, we'll be fine."

Dean left the room, leaving his hound friend by the bed, Titan whined and his ears drooped.

"_That's not what I'm worried about Winchester."_

Dean met Castiel in the front yard; Castiel was donning his usual attire: trench coat and dress suit with nice shoes. What Jimmy had worn when the angel had taken him as a vessel. Castiel stared at Dean like a well seasoned solider, which Dean could only imagine that Castiel was. Dean cocked his gun.

"That won't kill him Dean," Castiel explained. "Much less hurt him."

"Hey," Dean shrugged. "It'll catch him off guard at the least."

"If you boys are referring to me," Both Castiel and Dean turned to see Metatron himself, standing across from them. "The least you could do is addressing me."

"Take one more step and I swear to God I'll kill you…" Dean practically snarled.

"Swear to Him all you want Dean," Metatron said, much louder. "He's not listening anymore."

Dean watched as those words shot through Castiel like ten rounds from a pistol. Castiel barely flinched as he tossed his blade, aiming at Metatron. The former Scribe caught it though before it could pierce through his vessel. Castiel glared and Metatron smirked, letting the blade fall to the ground, tossing it behind him.

"No need for that," he chuckled. "Really Castiel, I thought you were more civil than that?"

"Not when it comes to you," Castiel's eyes were glaring daggers at the former Scribe. "Stand down Metatron or I will send you Home and not in the nicest way."

"I hope you know I'm not afraid of you Castiel," Metatron paced, Castiel following his every move. Dean watched the two of them. He'd so rarely seen this side of Castiel. "In fact I'd say I've practically got this thing in the bag."

"Is that so," Castiel asked, his demeanor changing from unsure angel to annoying, taunting, older brother mode. "There is no way you're going to get away with us without being noticed. I know the ways of the Council. In fact I'm sure they're biding their time right about now."

As Castiel said that, two Angelhounds appeared. A Dalmatian named Harley and a Rottweiler named Atlas. They growled and snarled behind Castiel, their eyes bright white. They started to advance before, almost as though they were given imaginary orders, they stopped, sat, and watched. Dean stared, confused. Castiel did the same. Metatron smirked.

"Now," he said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket and holding it in front of him. "It's my turn. I'd like you to hear my latest story Castiel."

Dean felt the wind pick up around them and the trees' branches begun to shake and shiver in the heavy breeze. It whipped and howled. Castiel shielded his eyes as fragments of stick and branch begun to fly closer and closer to him. Dean did the same. The Angelhounds sat, unaffected.

"_And the wind howled and whipped around Castiel as he stood stone solid like the good little soldier he'd always tried to be," _Metatron read his writing, his eyes motioning to Castiel. "_Daddy's brave little soldier thought he could win the fight. He'd thrown his only weapon at the faster, bolder, Metatron. He held his arms up in defense, shielding his eyes from the debris. His fearless human companion Dean Winchester stood near him, watching defenselessly as he was powerless to intervene. Castiel stood stone solid, that is until the earth started to open up behind him."_

Metatron's eyes met Castiel's and Castiel looked back to see a crack in the dirt. A small crevice started to form, the winds sucking into it. Castiel's feared filled eyes flicked to Dean then back to Metatron.

"_He struggled to maintain his footing as the earth moved beneath him. He stumbled backwards, falling into the crevice and hanging on for dear life by the edge. His fingers digging into the dirt and his face contorting as he struggled to hold himself up."_

Castiel did just that.

"Cas!" Dean yelled out over the wind, but found himself unable to move.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sam had his foot all the way down to the floor on the gas pedal. He did the sloppiest parking job known to man, but he didn't care. He jumped out of the Impala, pocketing the keys and running towards the front door. He was stopped by Titan, who had busted out of the bunker and had started to run towards the scene out back.

"Titan," Sam cried out in alarm. "Where's Dean?!"

_"Out back," _Titan barked. "_Metatron's there! Castiel…he's…"_

Sam took off suddenly to the backyard, Titan right at his heels. Sam regretted going on that hunt on his own. If he hadn't left he could've been there for Castiel and Dean. He wouldn't be running now. Sam almost tripped, but maintained his footing until he stopped short at what he saw in the backyard.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Cas," Dean exclaimed and ran over to his friend who was dangling from the side of the crevice, barely able to still hang on. "Damn it Cas!"

"_Dean Winchester ran over to the brave little soldier," _Metatron said, excitement in his voice. "_His voice cracked as he called his name. His brother Sam and loyal Angelhound Titan stood, helpless, unable to move and reach the both of them."_

"You bastard!" Sam yelled, finding he was indeed unable to move.

"Dean," Castiel yelled over the wind as Dean took the angel's hand, hoping to pull him back up. "Let go!"

"No," Dean yelled back. "Damn it Cas I'm not letting go you'll fall!"

"Wouldn't be the first time." Metatron smirked.

"Then let me fall," Castiel exclaimed. "Dean, go! Save yourself! Kill the bastard!"

_"Dean found that he couldn't let go," _Metatron recited. "_No matter how hard he tried, he never could let go of Castiel."_

"No!" Dean practically screamed, Castiel could feel the earth giving way.

"_The earth started to fall in too, the crevice would be no more soon," _Metatron read. "_Dean refused to let go, Castiel refused to get out. Castiel felt his fingers slipping. Dean felt his breaths grow short. The crevice was closing, the crevice to Hell."_

"Dean," Castiel pleaded.

"I can't Cas…" Dean held onto him, suddenly he took a deep breath and as Castiel started to fall, Dean leaped into the crevice too. The wind sucked them fast, deep, into the crevice leading straight to the deepest part of Hell.

It was like slow motion after that, Harley and Atlas didn't flinch, they watched. Metatron's smirk grew. Sam's scream of Dean and Castiel's names pierced through the air and Titan's howl could shatter eardrums. Within seconds, the crevice closed and Metatron let out an evil laugh.

_"And with that, the Righteous man and the Fallen one serve the penance they so deserve."_

Sam ran forward, ready to kill, Titan snarled and followed before they could two angels appeared and each grabbed one of Metatron's arms. Metatron was shocked, he jumped and tried to get free but was unable after the angelic hand cuffs were placed on his wrists. Sam stared in disbelief at the angels and the hounds as they walked closer to Metatron, inspecting him before turning to Titan and Sam.

"It's about time," Sam exclaimed. "You dicks showed up! You couldn't have stopped that?!"

"_Orders of Donathan_," Atlas said. "_Direct. To capture the escaped prisoner. That has been done."_

"But," Sam sputtered. "But what about my brother and Cas?!"

_"They are to serve the penance they deserve," _Harley replied. "_It only makes sense that the fallen angel be exiled to Hell with the man who caused him to fall in the first place."_

Titan snarled and jumped forward, snapping at Harley's throat. Harley growled and raised his hackles, preparing for a fight. Atlas; however, intervened.

"_Stand down." _He said to both of them and they both obeyed.

"I'm sorry Sam Winchester," one of the angels said. "But our job is done. Nothing can be done to help your brother and Castiel now."

The angels flew away with Metatron in tow. The Angelhounds disappeared. Titan looked around, running rapidly over to the spot where the crevice had been and digging frantically, finding nothing. Sam's gaze fell upon the hole and immediately he felt the feeling that he was going to be sick. His brother and Castiel had fallen into Hell and who knew how long this time.

Sam didn't even feel the wind die down and the gentle breeze as it caressed his cheek.

**Reviews are appreciated! I hope this chapter was more interesting than all the rest. More to come soon guys!**


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